Yeah, I have a stepmother, but don’t worry; I’m not a fucking animal. Kellyane’s a beautiful woman, but that’s it. Her daughter, Kim, is a whole different matter… Cute face, a bright smile framed by smart eyes, and a headful of bright blonde hair. And these long legs of hers, leading up to an ass perfect enough to make me salivate. And real fucking tits, round and perky.
When I saw her at my father’s wedding, I could barely think of anything else but fucking her.
Then my dad introduced her to me. “Your new sister, Kim,” he said, and my heart and cock both sank at the same time. That was it; there are some lines even I won’t cross, and fucking my stepsister is one of these lines.
“Hey, you’re Cody Brooks, aren’t you?” Some other girl sashays up to me, her eyes brightening up as she sees me.
“No,” I simply tell her, turning my back to her and heading down to the bar. I ask the bartender for another whisky, but when I turn around there she is again, an eager smile on her lips, full tits almost jumping out of her tight fitting red dress. At least these look like the real thing, not fake plastic rip offs.
“You are Cody Brooks,” she purrs, taking one hand to my chest and closing in on me. Jesus fuck, can’t a guy get a drink without being fucking harassed all the time? This shit is tiresome.
“Yeah, okay, I’m Cody,” I admit, downing half of my whisky in one single gulp. She flashes me a victorious smile and then takes her hand to my crotch, probably just wanting to check if the rumors are true.
If you’re wondering, yeah, it’s all true—twelve-inch cock and enough stamina to kick ass at the Olympics. But tonight I’m not feeling it, and that’s the reason my cock isn’t hard when she presses her hand against my crotch.
“Sophia,” she whispers, leaning into me and brushing her lips against my ear. She squeezes my cock then, and looks me straight in the eyes. This one seems even hornier than all the others put together.
“Yeah, look,” I start, leaning against the counter and trying to get her to back off. “I’m just here with my friends and --”
“You could be with me… in the bathroom,” she points with her head to the back of the dance floor, and I almost cave. At least she didn’t want me to take her back to my place.
“I can’t,” I lie, and I can already tell she won’t take no for an answer. What the fuck happened to that No Means No thing? I’m a human being too, not a walking twelve-inch cock made of gold. “I’ve made a promise.”
“A promise?” She seems taken aback, so I just decide to have some fun at her expense.
“For each hour I go without sex, I’m donating $5000 to Africa,” I say, finishing my whisky and slamming my empty glass down on the counter.
“Oh, seriously?” she squeals, her hand still on my cock. Just let me fucking go, Samantha, or whoever you are.
“Yeah, that’s right.” Are people actually this fucking stupid? Seriously, this is the reason I’m not feeling it today. I’m just tired of all this constant bullshit. Women coming up to me because I’m wealthy, and how overall dumb they are. Where’s the fucking substance? I love tits and a nice piece of ass as much as the next guy, but once you’ve gone through as many women as I have, you start wanting more.
“Look, Samantha--”
“Sophia.”
“Yeah, that. Look, I actually have to leave,” I start, trying to think of something that will get her to leave me alone. “I’m going to be at the Hamptons, and I’ve to leave in a few hours. Tell you what, I’ll give you my number and you can call me if you’re ever in Southampton.”
She finally takes her hand off of my cock, disappointment washing over her face, and I can tell she won’t call. The moment I’m out of sight she’ll just forget about me and jump back into the cock carousel. Girls these days have the attention span of a goldfish.
“Okay,” she says with a resigned smile. She hands me her cell phone and I type my number into it. In a flash, she plucks the phone out of my hands, stuffs it into her purse and then bolts. Nice manners, Samantha, or whatever her name is.
I have to thank her for one thing though, she actually gave me an idea. Why don’t I go to the Hamptons? I’m tired of the scene around here, and some time off seems perfect. I’ve never spent more than a weekend in the house my father bought there, but the Hamptons seem like someplace fun to take a break from New York.
Maybe the women there are more interesting. And perhaps they have real tits too. Yeah, I really love real tits; I mean, they’re proof God’s real, so what’s there not to love?
Yeah, fuck it; let’s do this. I’m getting out of Manhattan tonight. Hamptons, here I come.
Time to pack my bags.
Kim
I drag my bags up the stairs and, by the time I get to the top, I’m already breathing hard. Usually my stepfather would have a few helping hands around, but I completely forgot to warn him and my mother that I was leaving for the Hamptons.
I had planned to call them on the bus ride here, but then this guy sat next to me. Tall and tanned, his biceps bulged from under his shirt and I got right to work trying to picture the size of his cock. And he had a sweet cologne on him as well… I almost pretended I was dozing off so that I could let my head fall against his shoulder.
I know, I know. I really need to get laid. I think I’m going to lose my marbles if that doesn’t happen soon enough. Oh, don’t look at me like that. I’m not one of these desperate girls; I’m just busy most of the time, no time left to enjoy myself.
Wiping the sweat off my forehead, I place the key on its slit and turn it. I push the two grand doors open, and then take a deep breath. The whole place is silent and my heels click across the marble floor as I step inside the monstrously huge living room. I open the large windows and the entrance that leads to the swimming pool in the backyard, allowing a soft breeze and daylight inside the house, and then I jump on the couch and lie back.