Karen’s hot.
There’s no fucking denying that. All the fucking moral grandstanding doesn’t get past the simple biological desire to take my hard 12 inch fuck tool and stick it inside her. To spread her wide open and fuck the living shit out of her. To smell the steam from her pussy and empty a quart of cum inside of her.
"Are you going to stand there staring at me or come and join me?" she asks as she puts her shades back on and sprawls her body out on the towel.
I peel off my shirt, reminding myself that she’s my stepsister. But my cock keeps thinking otherwise as I get down to my boxers. She looks up and says, "Superman! Nice."
Trust me to pick the worst day to wear these boxers. A girl got them for me after claiming that I was like Superman in bed. Fuck, I’m not sharing that story with Karen. Especially when I’m trying so damn hard not to look at her body. Or maybe I could tell her that I’m like Superman in bed.
What's the worst thing that'll happen? She could tell me to fuck off. Then again, she could ask me to show her. What's the likelihood of that fucking happening?
All I know is that she’ll soon realize that she wasted six years on Zach, especially if he always came before she did. I'm guessing that means she probably hasn’t had an orgasm in that long. And with that body? That's a fucking shame.
Fuck, I need to keep myself in check big time.
I’m having too many nasty thoughts.
And every single one of them is about Karen.
Karen
"What are you doing here?" I ask him.
I'm trying to make normal conversation because it's no secret that he keeps getting an erection every time he looks at me. He keeps turning around, and he thinks I don't notice.
You'd think that'd make things awkward—watching your stepbrother get a boner by looking at you—but I can't help but feel a jolt of electricity in my core when I look at him too.
He's bigger and more muscular than I remember him. I can even see his shoulders and biceps bulging beneath his t-shirt. And it's clear that the sexual tension between us is so totally off the charts.
I know, he’s my stepbrother.
But it’s like my body doesn’t give a shit. It senses that giant python between his legs and my pussy just wants to swallow it whole.
Yeah, I’m not the super morally pure virgin you may be used to. Sorry.
My heart beats a little faster when I realize that I can’t remember the last time I came. Sure, I've been getting pleasure from my vibes, but it's not the same. I suddenly have the feeling that I deserve more.
I always knew that I would never achieve an orgasm with Zach. Somehow that was okay. That was enough for me back then, when we were together. But now everything is different. He turned everything upside down. I’m officially single, and now I'm on a mission. I want what Zach denied me. I just didn’t expect the first guy I’d want to get it on with to be Colt.
Besides, Zach isn't letting me go easily. He keeps calling and begging me to go back to him. I think that he’s more worried about the vacation that we’ve paid for. Every message ends with, "Does this mean that we’re not going to Barbados?" So yes, he’s definitely worried about the vacation, but honestly, seeing as Rachel was sucking whatever it was that Zach called his cock, he should ask her to go with him instead.
Colt speaks up, breaking up my train of thought. "Daniel said I should come home," he says to me. "He said that he had something to talk about. I planned on going on vacation with the boys this summer—to Bali actually. So, as long as whatever Daniel has to get off his chest only takes a d
ay or two, I’m willing to listen," Colt says, as once again his eyes roam over my breasts. I smile because he thinks I don't notice.
And…did I just bounce my tits a little bit for him?
No, I couldn’t have.
Just like I didn’t just openly lick my lips.
"Right, that’s what he said to me, too," I say, trying to draw attention away from what my body is doing outside of my control almost. "I wonder what’s going on?"
"I haven’t heard from Daniel in months. I was kind of surprised that he contacted me," Colt shrugs.
"Months?" I ask Colt, realizing that it’s been a while since we’ve caught up. "I thought you came home regularly".
Personally, I’ve been avoiding coming back here because the memories are too painful. The last time I was here Mom was walking out the door, saying that we shouldn’t bother looking for her. She said it so casually, like someone says they're going to the grocery store. Like it's the most natural thing in the world. I mean, can you imagine?