Wanting My Stepsister

I grip my cock tighter, thinking about the way her body shook when she came in my arms. How I had to cover her mouth with my hand so we wouldn’t get caught, and how much more that thought turned me on.

What if our parents had caught us fooling around? Would I have been relieved to finally have it out in the open, or would Libby’s horror at being caught have been like ice water all over the moment? Did she even know what she was doing last night?

I snuck out this morning because I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. But if I’m being honest, I did it so I wouldn’t have to face the look of regret on her face. I couldn’t stand the thought of her not wanting me how I wanted her, even though we can’t be together.

Giving my cock another squeeze, I focus on the moment we shared and what it felt like to have her curves pressing against me. After all these years of wanting to hold her close, I was finally able to have that dream come true. I feel the build of the cum, and I know any second I’m going to blow. I lick my lips and whisper her name as I release onto my hand and lower abs. I keep rubbing through the peak of pleasure until the ache turns to pain.

It’s then that the pulse of the orgasm in my ears recedes and I hear a small gasp. I jerk my head to see Libby standing in the doorway of my bedroom.

Her hair’s a mess from sleep, and her sleep shirt is falling off one shoulder, exposing her soft, creamy skin. Her eyes are wide with shock, and her cheeks are burning bright red, as she stares at the mess I’ve made. The one from thinking of her.

I open my mouth to say something, frozen in place by her stare, but Mom’s voice cuts me off and snaps us both out of our trance.

“Libby, Jasper, breakfast!” she shouts from downstairs.

“Baby girl—” I say, but Libby cuts me off.

“I’m sorry,” she says, before she closes my door quietly.

I jump out of bed and go to the bathroom to clean myself up. Quickly, I take care of business and throw on some jeans and a shirt before I go to her room. I want to try to talk to her before we go downstairs. Maybe apologize for what happened last night and explain that even though I don’t regret it, it can’t happen again. But when I see Libby’s door is wide open, I know she’s already in the kitchen and there’s no way I can talk to her now.

“Fuck,” I grumble to myself before I head to the kitchen to join my family. I’m sure this won’t be awkward at all.

8

Libby

I sit on the front porch watching Ned and my mom take off down the driveway. A sense of dread settles in my stomach because I know what’s coming. I could see it in Jasper’s face most of the morning. He wants to talk, and I want to avoid it. I’m not ready to face what’s coming now, or ever. I wish I’d never closed my eyes last night and fallen asleep. Then I could have soaked up a few more moments before it all came crashing down.

I tried to keep myself busy making pies to take to the diner, but eventually I ran out of supplies. The whole time, Jasper sat at the kitchen breakfast bar watching me. Mom volunteered to get me more ingredients while she and Ned were antique shopping in town. Then Ned suggested they both go see a movie after, so they decided to have a date night.

That meant hours alone with Jasper.

Before a few days ago, I would have welcomed this. Probably because he’s been avoiding me recently, but he doesn’t seem to be avoiding me now. Unless I count waking up alone.

My first thought this morning was to find him. Still drowsy from sleep, I thought last night was all a dream. I stumbled into his room only to find him touching himself, my name falling from his lips as he came all over his stomach. I wondered how many times he’d done that before now. Lying in bed thinking about me, like I always think about him when I touch myself. The erotic sight was more than I could take, and like always when it comes to Jasper, reality came flooding back in when Mom yelled for us. I ran from the room like an embarrassed little girl.

I hear the boards on the front porch creak under Jasper’s steps as he comes to sit down next to me. His legs are so long he has to rest them two steps down from us. We sit in silence, and I wish I could lean into him. I want to rest my head on him like I would when we were kids, but I keep looking forward, feeling his eyes on me.