Dirty Sext (Accidental Stepbrother 3)

“What time is it?” She asked.

She lifted her arms and stretched her body out, distracting me for a moment as my eyes fell to her bared breasts. Her nipples, exposed to the air, had hardened into pink nubs, and my mouth watered as I reconsidered what to eat for breakfast.

That thought came to a stop quickly when I saw all the marks all over her body. She didn’t complain last night, or at least, she didn’t once say she was in pain, but I’d left a lot of marks on her. They filled me with both pride and worry. I loved that she had my marks on her, but maybe I was a little rough last night.

It’s all her fault, though.

I didn’t expect her to ask me to spank her. When I did it before, in the classroom, I didn’t just stop because we didn’t have a lot of time. I stopped because I realized I liked it a little too much, and I didn’t want to hurt her too much. I didn’t want her to hate it. I figured I’d have to talk her into it, maybe with a promise to let her spank me as she’d teased before. It was a kink I’d realized I liked pretty early on, but not a lot of girls were into it, and the girls that would allow me, would still get mad when I got too enthusiastic.

Last night had been amazing, with Angela not only giving consent but asking me for it, then watching her pale cheeks bloom underneath my hands. I was starting to think Angela was the perfect woman for me.

“Ooh, is that breakfast?”

I blinked, coming back to myself. Angela was staring at the tray, looking more awake.

“I called and had some brought up. I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I asked for a bunch of different stuff.”

“I’ll eat anything. Bring it here; I’m hungry.” She sent a glare my way. “Someone worked me so hard last night I even forgot about dinner.”

I grinned, unrepentant.

We settled in on the bed with the tray laid across Angela’s lap. I saw her wince as she shifted on her butt, and grew worried again.

“Was last night too hard on you?” I asked.

When I thought spanking was something she would be into, I’d done some research on it. I knew I had to be careful so it would feel good and not hurt. It was a kink I had, and while it would be nice if it was something we could share, I didn’t want to hurt her too badly. Maybe I was too rough last night…

“No need for you to worry so much, I just ache a little. Do you even know how long you were in me for last night? It’ll go away on its own.”

“I was more worried about your ass. Does it burn?”

She shrugged. “Don’t worry about that, either. You didn’t exactly give me just some light taps, you know? It doesn’t really hurt that much, anyway. And if I disliked it, I wouldn’t hide it from you.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t do it again, though,” I said, feeling down about it. “I want to have fun, not give you a hard time.”

She snorted. “Trust me; I had fun last night. If I hated any of it, I would have told you to stop. Besides, you’re nowhere near as bad as my ex-was.”

Angela picked up a fork and started poking at the food, before bringing some to her mouth. She hummed in appreciation, forking more into her mouth.

“Do you mean your ex-husband?” I asked.

Besides knowing there was one, I didn’t know much about him. She’d mentioned him a few times but never outright talked about him. Her hands froze at my question, and after a moment, she looked up at me.

“His name was Stuart,” she said, the corners of her mouth turning down. “I was so sure I was in love with him when I married him, but actually living with him was hell. It was easy at first, but it started getting harder. He was… controlling. In a way I absolutely hated, but I didn’t know how to make him stop. I would talk to him about it at first, but there were times when he didn’t even seem to notice when he did it, especially in the bedroom.”

I frowned. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

She shook her head slowly. “If you’re talking physically, then no. Psychologically, then yes. He made me feel inadequate, and I didn’t even realize that I was practically living under his thumb for the longest time. When I did, I started pulling away, then asked for a separation.”

The guy sounded as bad as my dad, just in a different way. I stared at Angela as she ate, wondering how she could have lived with someone like that. I didn’t say anything, because I didn’t know the circumstances, but if she’d moved to New York after the divorce, then it had to be recent since she’d joined the school when I was already a student.