I ignored Caiden’s comments, which was easy to do when it felt like paradise was setting up home in my mouth. Sheri’s cooking put mine to shame, but I had plenty of time to learn and practise.
If only I didn’t have to go to Cambridge and waste three years of my life in crappy dorm rooms and kitchens without any equipment.
I looked back at Caiden and saw his tongue rimming the hole of the bagel. The same tongue that had moved expertly around my pussy lips, before finally diving inside me in a moment that shocked and pleasured me in a way I hadn’t known was possible.
Caiden put two fingers in the hole and started licking above the bagel. My mind flashed back to when his tongue left my entrance even though I begged him to keep going. He’d replaced his tongue with two fingers and rubbed aggressively against my wall while his tongue moved on to my clit.
The soft licks were enough for me to lose all control of my senses, but when he took my clit between his lips and sucked on it, my back had arched into the air and I’d surrendered to him completely. I’d come hard on his face. The after effects of the orgasm had lasted for minutes, and when I’d next opened my eyes he was looking down at me with my wetness all over his face.
I couldn’t be in the same room as him any longer. I thanked Sheri and made some excuse about needing to shower and dashed upstairs to my bedroom.
My pocket vibrator was in the bottom drawer beside my bed. It would only take me seconds to come; could I risk it? My hand was on the drawer when I heard my dad’s bedroom door open. Shit, this is just not going to happen today. I pictured a summer spent getting excessively horny and frustrated as memories of my night with Caiden haunted me and opportunities to masturbate became rarer and rarer.
Instead of opening the bottom drawer, I opened the top drawer and removed something my dad would be almost as disgusted with as my vibrator. A brochure for Tante Marie Culinary Academy.
The Cambridge acceptance letter really belonged to my father. My dream wasn’t to study PPE or law, it was to work in the food industry. I wanted to be a chef of some kind. To create recipes. I sighed and put the brochure back in the drawer where it was destined to remain.
The culinary school cost money. Money I didn’t have, and Dad certainly wouldn’t pay for it. University was just three years. I could get through three years. Then I’d have to get a job and save some money, but eventually I would do it. One day I would do what I wanted and not what my dad wanted. One thing was for certain—I wouldn’t end up like my mother. I wouldn’t spend my years as a housewife for a man who didn’t appreciate me.
It wasn’t Dad’s fault Mum nearly died and still hadn’t fully recovered. I didn’t even really care that he had moved on. He never kept her happy anyway. I did care that he hadn’t appreciated her before the crash. I wouldn’t end up like Mum.
I needed a shower. A cold shower. I couldn’t look at that girl without the blood rushing every place but my brain and that made me a little crazy. Did I just imagine that a bagel was her pussy? The bagel tasted good, but not that good.
Vicky had tasted like sweet innocence that night. She’d undressed quickly and waited for me on the bed with open legs. I hadn’t been expecting the shaved pussy and for a moment I’d wondered whether I’d been wrong to assume she was a virgin.
Some women kept a tidy bikini line, but did virgins often remove every single hair from their snatch? Unless she had planned to get laid that night all along? It was possible, but she could have anyone. Why did she pick me when she clearly despised me?
She hadn’t despised me when my tongue had been in her cunt though. I explored every part of her I could reach, and if she hadn’t come and started begging for my cock I would have carried on eating her all night.
Her pussy lips were untouched, and when I’d slid my fingers inside her, the tightness that awaited my cock was almost too much to bear.
When I’d slipped on the condom and entered her, I almost shot my load instantly. That wouldn’t have been good for my reputation. Her hole practically sucked me inside her, and its tight grip wouldn’t let me leave.
I grabbed her legs and threw her knees up by her ears as I eased into her. She looked uncomfortable at first, but after just a few minutes she had her hands on my ass and was begging me to fuck her harder. Not bad for a first-timer.
After taking her innocence, I nearly made a huge mistake. I nearly left. I didn’t stick around any longer than I had to, and it wasn’t like we would be able to fuck again. She’d be sore for a few days after her first time.
I’d underestimated her. A lot. She took the initiative the second time and straddled me, barely giving me time to slip on a new condom as she eased my cock between her folds and rode me with a passion I didn’t think she had inside her.
The poor girl’s tits took a fair bit of abuse as my desires got the better of me, but if I didn’t know any better, I’d swear she enjoyed it. I left bite marks around her nipples, but that didn’t stop her from asking for round three later on.
The third time scared me a bit. Usually by that point I’d be bending the girl over and slamming my cock into her from behind, but instead we settled into the missionary position again. And we went slowly. I blamed the exhaustion. We were well into the early hours of the morning at that point and we were both tired. We had to be. Why else would I have relaxed instead of giving her a spanking?
I’d held on to her taste and the feeling of her tightness on my cock for as long as possible, but now I needed another hit. I needed to get my cock inside that tight hole of hers again.
Damn it, Caiden. It’s bad enough that you’ve screwed your step-sister already. Now you want to do it again? This. Is why. You don’t. Fuck. Virgins. Nothing but drama.
I grabbed a fresh towel and headed to the bathroom. I had my hand of the door when I heard Vicky sigh next to me. She was holding new clothes and getting her first taste of sharing a bathroom with her new step-brother.
“Need a cold shower?” I asked. “You looked a little flustered downstairs. Did you like the little reminder of what I can do with my tongue?”
“Just don’t spend too long in there and try not to use all the hot water.”
“Why don’t you join me? We got dirty together; why don’t we try and get clean together?”
“I don’t feel like I’ll ever be clean again after what we did.”
“It’s a good thing I know you’re lying,” I said. “Otherwise I might be offended. Why don’t you let me scrub those little titties of yours? It won’t take long.”
“You disgust me,” Vicky said, pushing me away from the bathroom to the airing cupboard so that we were further from her dad’s room. “I made a mistake that night, but it’s not one I plan to repeat. I know you’re enjoying this, but you need to understand that I am not interested in you.”
“It was just sex,” I said, moving closer to her. There was barely an inch between us now. I could smell her hair again, but that wasn’t the scent I was after. “We fucked. You’re allowed to enjoy it. And by the way, I know you did enjoy it. Your body gave that away.”
“Well now my body is making it clear that I’m not interested in a repeat performance.”
“How can I tell?” I asked. “Unless you let me touch you again. Let me touch your pussy and I’ll know one way or the other. I bet you’re dripping wet right now.”
“I don’t know what I saw in you,” Vicky said. She gripped the clothes tightly in her hands, but didn’t make any effort to move.
“You saw my cock sliding in and out of your dripping wet snatch,” I said. “Remember? You kept turning to face the mirror and get a better view of the action. In and out. In and out.”
“It’s not happening again,” Vicky repeated. She was trying to convince herself, but failing.
I just wanted to open that dressing gown and gorge on those pert little titties before plunging myself deep in her slit. I didn’t notice my cock stiffening until it was too late.
“Feels like you want a
repeat performance more than I do,” Vicky said, as she felt me grow against her.
I tried to shrug casually, but I couldn’t control the boner growing in my pants. “I never said I wouldn’t fuck you again and you’ve caught me on a bad day. I’m stuck in a boring town and you’re the only person around here I can fuck.”
“Except you can’t fuck me,” Vicky said. “Never again. Even if we weren’t about to be related, I wouldn’t fuck you again anyway. You were a bit of fun before I headed off to university. That’s it.”
“I am going to have you again,” I said. “There were things we didn’t do, and I intend to continue your sexual education.”
Vicky shook her head and tried to push me out of the way to open the linen cabinet. She took out a towel and shut the door, but not before I saw something of interest.
“You know,” I said, opening the door again. “Now that you’re living with me, our dirty laundry is going to get mixed up. Oh look, what is this?” I reached my hand into the wash bin and pulled out a pair of panties that were far too small to belong to my mom.
“Put them back,” Vicky yelled, forgetting that we were supposed to be quiet.
“I’m going to be honest with you, Vicky. You taste good and I need another hit.” I put the panties up to my face and took a deep breath in through my nose. The smell was weak, but it was there and enough to satisfy my cravings for a few minutes.
I’d never needed a woman’s pussy like this. I usually ate pussy as a means to an end, but damn if I didn’t want to eat her almost as much as I wanted to fuck her.
“That’s disgusting,” Vicky said. She tried to snatch the panties out of my hand, but I moved them away just in time.
“I’m keeping these until the scent fades or I get my hit some other way. Are you sure I can’t tempt you into a repeat performance?”
I pressed my hard cock against her. She stared into my eyes, but didn’t fight me as I parted her dressing gown. My shaft rubbed lightly between her legs but she didn’t waver. This girl had some willpower.
“Enjoy your shower,” I said. “You go first. I’m going to deal with this thing,” I pointed to my cock, “while your in there getting all wet and soapy.”
Vicky disappeared into bathroom while I went to my bedroom. I resisted the urge to masturbate. I still had hopes of finishing what I started with Vicky and I didn’t want to fire blanks when that happened.
She might enjoy playing games and keeping me waiting, but at some point Virgin Vicky would drop her guard again and I would get to see Slut Vicky again. I liked Slut Vicky; I just hoped she made an appearance sooner rather than later.
---
Apart from a few changes of clothes, all my things were still at the penthouse in London, so I had nothing to do in my bedroom short of picturing Vicky in the shower. I headed downstairs and, after checking that the coast was clear, I slipped into the living room and turned on the TV. I still hadn’t quite gotten the hang of all those British TV channels, but there were more than enough American shows for me to find something I liked enough to pass the time.
I quickly got bored of the mindless sitcoms and started flicking through some of the documentary channels before finding a program detailing the Reformation of the church in England during the reign of Henry VIII. It was a topic I was fairly well-versed in already, but it was either that or shows about the Nazis and World War II. Thousands of years of history to choose from and the History Channel always picked the same thirty year period in the first half of the twentieth century.
“The shower’s free,” Vicky said, as she strode into the lounge holding a bagel before collapsing on one of the seats. The seat furthest away from me.
She’d slipped into a tight pair of jeans and a halter neck top which gave me a generous look at her chest. I knew she would dress more formally if she left the house, so I decided to stick around in the lounge for a little while and make the most of the view. At least there would be some advantages to living here this summer.
“Thanks,” I said. “I think I’ll just watch the end of this.”
Vicky frowned when she saw what I was watching. “If you have a fetish for women in tight corsets, you’re better off watching drama shows like The Tudors. You won’t see much flesh on a History Channel documentary.”
“If I wanted to see women dressed like 16th-century virgins I wouldn’t have to look very far, would I?”
Vicky shook her head and looked down at her chest. Damn it. Why did I say that on the one occasion she was actually wearing some revealing clothes.
“I can go and add a few more layers if you like,” she said. “But I am rather hot after the shower, so if it’s okay with you I’ll dress like this for a bit.”
“Fine,” I grumbled. First, she had an unwelcome effect on my cock and now she was affecting my brain as well. “I didn’t know you were into bagels?” Vicky was devouring her second bagel with an enthusiasm that Sheri would have enjoyed witnessing.
“I didn’t think I’d like them either. Perhaps it’s just the ones your mom makes.”
“There’s nothing special about what my mom does,” I said. “She’s just a cook who happened to get lucky. I don’t know why you worship her so much.”
“I don’t worship her; I admire her. Her recipe development is better than anyone else’s I know of, especially when it comes to healthy desserts which happens to be my favorite to cook.”
I groaned and made a point of going back to watching the TV. There was nothing worse than listening to one of my mom’s fans go on about how special she is. Especially when they spoke about recipe development. If they knew the whole story, they wouldn’t be quite so enthusiastic.
“You would appreciate her more,” Vicky continued, “if you enjoyed cooking and didn’t have some immature rebellious streak that made you want to detest your mother.”
“Having a realistic impression of my mother is better than being a daddy’s girl and doing everything I’m told like you.”
“I’m not a daddy’s girl,” Vicky said.
“Is that so? I bet every major decision in your life has been made by your father. Did you want to go to an all-girls boarding school? Do you really want to go to Cambridge for college?”
“Cambridge is not a college, it’s a university,” she said, making some distinction that meant nothing to me. “And of course I want to go there. It’s one of the best universities in the world and studying there will set me up for the rest of my life.”
“What is it you’ll be studying there?”
“PPE. Philosophy, politics, and economics.”
“Sounds stimulating,” I said sarcastically. “Although I have to admit, I’m intrigued as to how those three things can be combined. I find politics and economics rarely mix and philosophy is a different field entirely. What kind of career would you go into after that? Sounds like you would be a jack of all trades, master of fuck all.”
“A PPE degree from the University of Cambridge sets you up for a career doing whatever you want,” Vicky replied. “Well, maybe not a doctor or anything like that, but I will have a lot of opportunities. I’ll probably become a lawyer in the City.”
I laughed loudly. “A lawyer in the City? Doesn’t that happen to be the exact same thing your father does?”
“It’s a good career,” Vicky insisted. “I’m not going to not do it just because it might look like I’m following in my father’s footsteps.”
“Except you don’t want to do it, do you? I saw the look on your face when you spoke to your father about being accepted to Cambridge. I’ve never seen anyone look less excited about going to a prestigious university as you did then.”
“I’m just a little nervous, that’s all. You wouldn’t know about that, because you never had to work hard in school your entire life for something like this. You just have it all handed to you on a plate.”
“Well I’m sure mommy and daddy must be very proud of you.”
Vicky’s gaze immediately sunk do
wn to her lap and I realized my mouth had engaged before my brain again. Vicky’s mom had been distinctly absent from all conversations about her father getting remarried and I had a feeling I knew why.
“Your mom… Is she…”
“Dead?” Vicky asked, finishing the sentence for me. I nodded. “No, she’s not dead.”
“I take it you two don’t get on well. I mean, you don’t seem to like your dad all that much, so if you chose to live with him I’m guessing the alternative was even worse.”
“I love my mother more than you can imagine,” she said, solemnly. “But I can’t live with her. She’s not well.”
“What happened?” I asked.
“She was in a car accident about three years ago. Some moron thought his text message was more important than my mom’s life and his car slammed into hers on the motorway. He escaped unscathed of course, while my mom ended up in intensive care. She’s a lot better now, but she needs a lots of support.”
“Is she still in hospital?”
“No, her sister looks after her. She lives in Manchester. I speak to her as often as possible, but I don’t get to go and see her very often. She’s still in a bad way, but I keep up-to-date on what is going on. God, I’m not enjoying giving her the update on dad marrying your mom.”
No wonder she didn’t like hearing me badmouth my mother. People always told me I should appreciate having her around and I knew that was true, but it didn’t make it any easier to spend time with her. She was a fraud and the more successful she became the more I found myself hating her.
“What are you going to do with your last summer of freedom? I asked, eager to change the subject.
“Lots of cooking,” Vicky said. “I’ve been living in a dorm with a small kitchen for years so I intend to make the most of this one while I am here.”
“You really do enjoy cooking, do you?”
“My mom I used to do it together before the accident.”
I heard Sheri and Royston’s voices as they walked down the stairs. I considered making a dash for the kitchen, but I didn’t have enough time to get across the living room before they saw me.
Escape: A Stepbrother Romance Page 5