Wrong: A Spoiled Stepbrother Romance (8 page)

“Ooooh!” came another loud whisper that let me know she was close as well. She was probably on her back, legs open, one hand kneading her breast, her other one making her pussy quiver. “Yeah!” followed by the sound of her body bucking wildly on the bed, like she was not in control and just riding out her imagination in intensely pleasurable spasms. Just as I reached my own point, a panic came over me as I remembered I didn’t have anywhere to finish. In my mind, I would release into my stepsister’s tight hole and we’d continue to move together, until I had given her everything I had in me. In reality, the train had already left the station and needed somewhere to go.

As those thoughts appeared in my mind, my butt clenched, my entire pelvis shot forward and out of me came months of pent-up frustration, every point of tension I carried left me in spurts. Inside of my body a dam had burst and every inch of me felt alive, joyful. Relief carried over me like a wave, starting at my toes and carrying all the way to the very top of my head. It felt as though every part of me had become healed and repaired. The process had been draining as well as exhausting. Behaving like a marathon runner, I tried to catch my breath after releasing all that had been consuming me, completely exhausted and satisfied but finding the stamina to remain upright. My ear pressed firmly back onto the wall, wanting to hear if Madelyn felt just as relieved. Though the mess I had made on the wall was quite troubling as I noticed it start to slide towards the floor, I couldn’t remove myself from listening to her, desperate to share the ecstatic afterglow with her. Madelyn was quiet, likely perfectly still, but I could still hear her breathe as though she was just as satisfied and exhausted. Every bit of me hoped that she wanted this fantasy to become real as much as I did. With all going on in my life, the lessons I was supposed to be learning at the gym and at home, my attention was instead fixated on a girl; how cliche.

I momentarily became embarrassed and tried to shake off this distraction, deciding to focus on what I was supposed to be focused on: the fight. In my head I replayed my biggest punches in that session with Miller. In my room I shadowboxed, remembering specific moves that he had made, different things he had done that caught me off guard. I just knew I could beat him if we fought again, I had learned how he operated. This just pumped me up even more, knowing that I could take down Miller, at least make it more of a fight. Being this energized and full of adrenaline meant sleeping wouldn’t be an option for a bit, there was only one thing left I could do to use all of this excited energy inside me.

Madelyn had often protested that I wasn’t ever mindful of her “needs”, often times begging me to turn the music down when she was home. Though I had promised her I would be more respectful, there were times when I just needed to listen to the music, it calmed me down. Even though it was now clear that the wall between us was even thinner than I had originally thought, I had to put my song on. As quietly as I could, I started to play my song to help me relax even more.

“Ugh,” Madelyn yelled loud enough to be heard through the wall and over the music, “Not this song again!”

She let it go and didn’t keep up the complaining once I turned it down a little more. My hands were in the air as the imaginary crowd cheered my name, my imaginary opponent terrified in the ring. My song moved right through me as my arms raised and my stepsister slept soundly on the other side of the wall.

I was up for two more hours doing this.

*****

*****

Madelyn

“C’mon...c’mon...please!”

With each fruitless turn of the key, I begged my car to just please start. The result continued to be the same though; nothing but a series of frustrating clicks. Something way beyond my scope of knowledge was preventing the car from turning over. While I did have a brand new, well earned college degree, I never took a class on what to do if your car's radio comes on but the engine won't. This was out of my hands. When I finally gave up what clearly wasn't working, I got out of the car in a fit, looking for anyone or anything that may be able to help.

"Oh no, it's ok, I'm fine," I said under my breath after watching yet another colleague duck into their car and peel out of the lot. All of my lovely co-workers went to great lengths to avoid being spotted and having the obligation to help. Trying to think of any other option I may have, it looked bleak. I already knew my mother and Carmine would be of no help, I could already hear them insisting that I "find my own way" and "figure out a solution” for myself. Sadly that left only one other person I could call, the only other person I knew in this town who could possibly be of any help. There was no other choice but to call him.

It surprised me when he picked up right away, I had figured I'd be leaving a desperate, pathetic voicemail. Instead I found myself pleading with him, begging for help, making it clear I knew no other way to get out of this mess.

"Yeah, this is gonna take some work, I'm not supposed to leave here until the end of the day. Unless you hear from me, I'll be there as soon as I can. I guess I can say it's an emergency or something..."

I felt a little bad to put him in that position but it wasn't like I had a choice myself. He hung up his phone, not waiting for me to finish thanking him profusely.

Standing in that hot parking lot, I started to regret the light sweater I had worn that day to battle against the office air conditioning. While I could've run back inside to wait, I didn't want to risk being late for his arrival, he was doing me a big favor after all.I also wasn't entirely sure he wouldn't just leave if he didn't see me there waiting for him.

After a few uncomfortable minutes of watching coworkers try to twist and squirm out of my line of sight, I saw the flashy, silver sports car that I knew from being parked outside of the carriage house. Dark tinted windows and the sound of bass shaking the car's body approached slowly, a wave of relief washing over me.

"What seems to be the problem, m'am?" he playfully asked after lowering the passenger side window. Of course he wasn't wearing a shirt, that I had come to get used to. Just a dinky pair of shorts and a dark pair of sunglasses halfway down the bridge of his nose. His hair was slicked back, as if he hadn't been working out in the gym all afternoon, like he had dolled himself up just to come get me.

Any relief I felt was cut short when I pulled the car's door handle to get in but found it was locked. It clearly wasn't the mistake I had hoped it was, his wide grin confirmed that it had been intentional.

"C'mon, please?" I pathetically begged, worried that someone I worked with might be looking on, watching me be humiliated.

"Just say the words, sweetheart," he insisted while rolling the locked car just a tiny bit forward. Mortified, I followed alongside, trying to remain cool and calm as I attempted to get the door open.

"Open the door!" I whisper-shouted through pursed lips. "C'mon!"

"Just say the words..." The car rolled slightly forward again.

It wasn't intentional not to thank him right away, I had just figured I would do so once I was in the car. He wasn't that patient.

"Thank you!" my forced appreciation didn't even attempt to mask the contempt and anger he had made me feel. Sadly I knew full well that making me feel that way had been his intention all along, as always.

Once he was satisfied that he had angered me enough, the locks on the door audibly released and I was finally able to get the door open.

Typically I'm a cold body, stereotypically sensitive to the slightest hint of a chill, even when everyone else around me would be comfortable. That being said, that moment I got into the car, I found the inside was hot. Intensely, uncomfortably hot.

"Helps sore muscles," he insisted when I complained. The windows also had to remain rolled up, he informed me, or else the cool air would disrupt his soothing warmth he needed. I silently reminded myself to just grin and bear it, I needed to appreciate the favor he was doing me and not insist on my own comfort. I made sure to not complain about the curious route he was taking to get back home either; lots of side streets and detours that would assuredly only add time to our trip. I also didn't complain when he made a habit of looking my way when he spoke, taking his eyes entirely off of the road while we continued to move forward. He had to have known he was terrifying me by not watching the road and instead staring right into my soul.

"You know, if you're too hot, you can always take that sweater off."

At first I scoffed but the more I thought about it, I knew it just may have to come to that. I could feel sweat beading on my forehead as I twisted around uncomfortably in my seat.

"You promise you won't get weird if I do?" That question was more of a plea, my mind had already decided I'd be shedding the layer, no matter what response he gave. Underneath I had on a tight, kind-of small, white cami and, while it would reveal more than I had wanted it to, it would be enough to cover me until we got home.

His hand raised, leaving the wheel absent of anything to control the car, and he professed, "Scouts honor".

I was learning more each day. Just before I pulled that gray sweater up over my head, I attempted small talk. "Aw, you were a Boy Scout?"

His eyes remained off of the road again in order to get a gander at my recently exposed flesh. He made me feel real dumb by answering, "Nope," before breaking into a fit of giggles. Embarrassed I had been fooled, my arms crossed and rested against my barely covered breasts, trying to prevent him from seeing too much. A scowl draped on my face as I pledged to sit still, covered and quiet for the rest of the ride.

It took him a bit to pick up on my aggravated state. "Oh, don't be mad." Though I didn't want to validate him with a response, he was intently watching me, waiting for something. If I wanted him to watch the street he was driving on, I had to break.

"You're such a jerk," I told him, arms pressed hard against my chest, refusing to give in to his demands of not being "mad".

"Stop being like that," he said while giving my shoulder a playful push. The sensation of his touch on my bare skin alarmed me; an electric jolt shot through my body and awoke parts of me it really shouldn't have. My body was now craving more of his touch and that deeply disturbed me.

Against all rational thinking, I gave him a playful push back, only lightly shoving his naked shoulder. Thankfully he kept control of the wheel and saw this as a sign that we were cool. If only he knew the battle going on inside of me.

The best way I could keep the naughty thoughts at bay, the ones tormenting and confusing me, was to maintain a stubborn, annoyed stance. He did his best to change that.

"Where is she? Where's Madelyn?" he teased, trying to get me to smile. My arms had been so intent on covering my breasts that other parts of me were left exposed, openings his boxing training had taught him to locate. He took advantage and his finger went under my arm,right on the edge of my armpit, wiggling around and making me squirm. Though I wanted him to know I was still mad at him, I couldn’t help but smile and giggle as I moved out of his way while still holding onto my tits for dear life.

“There she is!” he mocked me when my grin wasn’t able to be contained any longer. When he noticed I was still hanging on to a sour disposition, he removed his finger and pouted himself. “C’mon, lighten up! You’re always too serious!”

My whole life I had been told I was too uptight and it was really starting to bother me. It seemed that, without even trying, I easily gave off a ‘no-fun’ vibe. As much as I wished it wasn't the case, too many people had insisted that I was uptight to simply pass it off as a coincidence. If I truly was tired of hearing it, I was going to have to step out my comfort zone to change how I was viewed by others.

“What do you mean, lighten up?” I asked, keeping my breasts covered and pulling them away from him, “I’m half naked over here.”

“Oh, is that it?” he wondered out loud, “Because I can get half naked too!”

Before I could even question his odd reasoning, he was lifting his butt off of the driver’s seat and began peeling his gym shorts off of his body, all while keeping the car moving forward. I wanted to object, there was no reason for this. Instead, once I saw the tight black boxer briefs struggling to contain his package, I momentarily lost the ability to speak. Once he sat back down and rested in his seat, it was difficult not to notice just how aroused he appeared to be. What was also difficult not to notice was just how aroused I was, my brain was on fire. There was an angel and a devil on my shoulder and each were making themselves heard.

“Like what you see?” he boasted when he noticed me outright staring at the erection fighting against his underwear. While I again tried to voice my objection, words didn’t seem able to come out. I was speechless.

His head cocked a bit as he looked at me. "Oh, I thought you were gonna one up me, show me how you weren't as uptight as I thought." It didn't register immediately what he was talking about, not until he swirled his finger in the air and said "Your shirt..." that I understood a bit better. With only a tight black bra on underneath, I had a decision to make. If I was really tired of my downer reputation, I'd have to do something about it.

After a quick stern look his way, my arms crossed over my body and I peeled the tight cami off of me, my tightly secured breasts bouncing a little as I did. Though I felt naked and vulnerable, there was a rush in exposing so much of myself in front of him. These feelings again were squashed down as I attempted to remind myself that this was to prove a point, nothing more.

"Whoa!" he called out in amazement, my barely covered tits distracting him from the road. He was practically drooling as he studied my chest, my nipples betraying me by becoming hard, pushing against the bra cups tight against my body.

"You got something, right here," he suddenly announced and as I looked down to see what he was talking about, a sole finger from his hand came over and pressed against the black cup, pretending to remove an imaginary piece of dust. Though I knew full well it was a ruse, I couldn't help but feel excited as he made contact with my forbidden breast, only a thin barrier between us. Each time I thought about just how wrong it was, my body screamed louder for him. There was only one way I could figure to diffuse the situation; I'd need to make him just as uncomfortable.

"Oh yeah?" I asked, "well you got something right here." My hand fell into his lap, cleaning up the part of his inner thigh covered by his underwear. His cock seemed to grow even bigger, leaning towards my hand like a plant reaching towards the sun. Teasing him felt great and that was where my concentration went; to make him squirm like he made me.

"Man, whatever this is, it’s really stuck on there." His hand went to fully grasping my breast, massaging it through the thin lingerie without shame. He wasn't going to win this battle though. "Yours is stubborn too," I insisted, a wider smile grew on my face as my fingers tiptoed even closer to the hard rod that threatened to burst right out of his boxers.

"Maybe if you look a little closer?" he suggested sweetly, almost pleading, tipping me off that I had him where I wanted him. Eager to up his discomfort, I slowly moved my face closer to his lap, trying my best not to show any enthusiasm. Very slowly I lowered until his covered cock was but an inch away. He moved about anxiously, dying for something I had no plan on giving him. As I moved at a glacial pace even closer, it finally happened, his cute boxer-briefs could no longer contain him and out of the hole in the front, his thick manhood burst right out. Just the sight of it so close overwhelmed my body and mind with dirty, wrong thoughts, fantasies I couldn't help but entertain. Quickly I thought of a million rationalizations as to why this wasn't so bad, why it was ok to give into my desires.

After a brief look up at his sweaty, trembling face, I opened my mouth and my fingers wrapped around his thick, pulsating tool, slowly approaching with my wet and ready lips. As my teasing mouth hovered over his throbbing muscle, my breath danced over his cock. It was at that moment that I began to see my stepbrother in an entirely new way.

*****

Rorke almost jerked the car right off of the road when I had a sudden change of heart and pulled back, far away from his lap.

“The hell?” he asked in a really angry tone. As I struggled to quickly put my clothes back on and in place, I couldn’t seem to figure out why he wasn’t as bothered by what had almost happened, what we almost did.

“We can’t, we can’t,” was all I could manage to say. I couldn’t even look at him as he watched me, not the road, with his free hand held open in confusion, trying to get to the bottom of what was going on. It just wasn’t sinking in.

“We are going to be brother and sister soon, you said so yourself,” I angrily reminded him. His annoying habit of calling me “sis” was now coming back to bite him on the ass. Why couldn’t he see how wrong this was? I’ll admit, for a moment I tried, really tried, to put all of that out of my head and just go with what I thought I wanted but I couldn’t.
This is wrong, Madelyn
, the voice in my head echoed. At the point where the very tip of his cock was just about inside of my mouth, just before my lips were about to wrap around his thickness, I couldn’t shake how wrong it was.