Before I know it, Amelia has planted a fat kiss on my cheek that sabotages my efforts at calming my cock down. The touch of her lips is enough to trigger a physical impulse to wrap my arms around her and pull her close. Thank God, I can't. But I can't do anything about that fast-hardening cock or the longing in my chest, either. But that isn't on my mind. What is, is the fact that for the first time I am actually contemplating allowing it to take the lead, and I wonder what that says about me.
"Great," I say, like a man uncertain if he should rejoice or weep. Praying she won't notice the way my cock stirs beneath the sheet that is too thin to hide anything, I just smile and hope to God that Amelia won't look away from my face. If only it were winter, not the midst of summer; I could have a thick blanket that would do something to cover up that damn thing that acts like a teenager.
"So, where is that itch?" Amelia says, grinning from ear-to-ear.
"It's gone," I say, a little too quickly to be believable.
"Mac!"
"Amelia, I'm really tired, and I'd love to just take a nap now," I lie, trying to hide the shame that washes over me. "There is no itch, I swear. The first itch that appears, I'll holler for the nurse on call at the top of my voice."
I'm six foot five inches and I come in at two-hundred-and-twenty-four pounds, nothing but muscle and bone, but I swear I've never felt so small and weak when I see Amelia look at me with one perfect eyebrow raised to make it clear she is seeing straight through me.
"You’d better," Amelia says finally. "Because the way this nurse deals with bad patients is by taking their toys away."
"Roger, Nurse Ratchet."
"Nurse Ratchet, sir?" Amelia says in what I imagine is her formal nurse-voice, reducing me to the patient that I don't want to be.
"A movie, nurse."
"I'll Google it, and if it implies anything bad…" Amelia says, her eyes sparkling, allowing to let the words hang there like a threat. God, she is already enjoying being the one in charge here.
"You'll take my toys away, nurse."
"I'll tickle the soles of your feet, sir," Amelia says and sticks her tongue out like a little girl. That is all it takes for a frustrated sigh to escape, my cock growing even harder at the thought of that tongue sliding over its surface.
Worrie
d, Amelia asks me if I'm alright, and in a flash she is all over me again, her hands on my chest and her face close enough to take in her sweet smell. I'm in hell, and my stepsister is my tormentor. The saddest part is the knowledge that she has no idea what she does to me by just being there.
"Just tired," I say. I am. Tired of hiding my feelings and faking indifference. But I have more pressing matters at hand than my own misery. I really need her to get the hell out of here. Maybe she will get tired of nursing after a few days, or I can talk her into taking a trip to Europe to have some fun before she starts her job as Florence Nightingale. But even as I think so, my heart cringes at the thought of her going away. I guess that means I'm a big pussy.
"Are you in pain?" Amelia asks,causing a shiver of hurt each word.
"No, just tired," I lie. What else can I say? Would her concern be erased if she knew the true cause for that sigh? No, she'd probably be freaked out. What? You want me? Need me? Ewwww. I'm your stepsister, dude!
"No itch that needs scratching or anything else that requires attention? Anything I can do, you just say the word, Mac. Anything at all," Amelia says.
More than the words, it is the unexpected huskiness in her voice that takes me by surprise, and the way she pushes out her chest, implying things that I want but know I can never have. Studying her face for signs that tell me I heard right, my mind tells me that I'm imagining things. But then why do her cheeks color as she nervously looks away, cocking her head, delicate fingers trailing her neck from just below her ear to the base? A sight that is enough for the barely contained lust to break through at full force.
Amelia
"Just a nap and a nurse who will do exactly as I tell her to," Mac says, his voice deep and his magnificent eyes narrowed at me like a predator studying its prey. The emphasis that he puts on "exactly as I tell her to do" triggers another explosion of heat in my chest and belly, my imagination not shy to fill in what that could mean, and my pink snatch spasms with forbidden longing.
"Which, right now, means that she will dedicate herself to creating a dinner that is fit for kings," Mac hastily adds, pulling his stare away. Thinking of dinner, I imagine spreading my legs for Mac, offering my swollen wet snatch for him to feast upon. Bon appetite, Mac!
I guess I could ask him if that big hard cock is there for me, the one he is trying to hide so badly by raising his one good leg to create a tent that didn't prevent me from seeing what is going on under the thin sheet, but I don't. Clearly this is going to take time and patience, and some tact. But since I've waited for years already, I think I can handle that. I'm already blown away knowing that clearly my stepbrother isn't as indifferent to me as I believed he was.
"I will do exactly as you say as long as it benefits my patient, sir," I say, formal but suggestive like a very naughty nurse.
Mac's eyes are instantly back on me again, illuminated with a lust that only fuels my own. A pang of excitement shoots through my pussy, which is aching longingly to familiarize herself with Mac's hard cock. Certain he can see straight through me, with those brilliant eyes of his, I'm hit by self-consciousness. Suddenly I can't wait to get away from that penetrating gaze of his; my face is burning.
"Sleep tight," I say under my breath, already rushing for the door, not to prepare dinner but to tend to a pussy that is leaking out of control. "Old man," I add lovingly.
"Amelia!" Mac thunders just when I close the bedroom door behind me.
"I love you too, Mac!" I yell, butterflies in my belly that I desperately want to believe are justified, meant to survive. I take the grunt that I get back as his way of saying he loves me back, just as much.
The next hours are spent masturbating, showering, Googling Nurse Ratchet—who turns out to be a total bitch of a nurse and a total control-freak—and deciding on what to wear. My nurse uniform is the obvious choice, of course. Thing is, while rubbing my drooling pink snatch, pleasure rising and falling with the pulsing of my throbbing clit, imagining Mac's hard cock pounding me at a steady rhythm, a thought came to mind; one that had me sigh and moan that much deeper, my pussy squirting as I lifted my back off the bed with a grunt. Just thinking of going that far increases the intensity of the fire between my legs, but intimidates me too. What makes me decide to go for it is the thought that one of us has to take charge or nothing might ever happen.