Fucked By My Stepbrother And His GF (1)
Fucked By My Stepbrother And His GF
~ Cassie ~
“Mmm… ahh… fuck… nnngh… yesss… right there! Fuck me harder!”
The walls are too thin. Or maybe I’m just too nosy.
I try to stay in my room, unpacking and folding shirts like I’m not hearing it. But then the sounds start getting louder… his grunts, the bed creaking, Inker’s moans slipping through the wall and wrapping around me.
Goosebumps rise on my skin and I bite my lip to hold back a quiet whimper. Before I realize what I’m doing my bare feet are padding straight down the hallway towards his room.
His door isn’t even shut all the way. Just a sliver of light and a crack of sound pull me closer until I’m standing there with my heart hammering, peeking through like some kind of pervert.
And then I see them.
He’s got her bent over the edge of the bed, one hand tangled in her dark hair, the other gripping her hip so tight I can see the white of his knuckles.
His body pounds into her in sharp, powerful thrusts, every muscle in his back carved and flexing under the low lamp light. And his cock… God. It’s thick! Hard. Driving into her so deep she cries out every time he goes in.
I shouldn’t be standing here listening or watching… that’s my stepbrother and his girlfriend. Every instinct in me screams to leave, to run. And yet my body stays still.
Inker looks like sin. The tattoos along her hip and lower back shift as she holds herself up on the sheets, her mouth hanging open, spit shining on her lips as she begs him not to stop.
Her breasts bounce with every thrust, nipples hard and swollen, her ass still red from the slap he gave her a moment ago.
God, why does wanting something wrong feel so right?
My thighs are wet. Watching his body claim hers like it was made for that alone is sparking something low in my stomach.
His voice is a rough growl full of filthy praise and command, and every word makes me imagine what it would feel like if I were the one in her position instead.
“Take it, love. You wanted this cock—so fucking take it.”
Her answering scream has me pressing my palm against my own chest, trying to calm the rush of blood pounding in my veins.
I should look away. I know I should.
But I can’t.
My eyes stay fixed on the way his cock slides in and out of her wet, tight pussy, every sound messy and delicious.
Then Inker shifts, her head starting to turn toward the door. Panic shoots through me. I pull back fast, almost tripping and rush down the hall until I’m back in my room and shut the door with trembling fingers.
The urge to touch myself is so much it feels like my skin is on fire. My pussy aches for release but I ball my fists into the sheets and force myself still.
No. Not again. Not him.
It’s not the first time I’m in this position. Back home when my stepbrother was still living with us, I used to hear him at night through the wall. Different girls. Same rough, raw sounds of sex. Each time I would press the pillow to my ears and squeeze my thighs tight and refuse to touch myself.
And now here I am again. Only worse, because this time I’m not behind the safety of my old bedroom door. I’m here in his apartment. Because I was stupid enough not to check my emails and didn’t know I’d been waitlisted for my dorm. Because my mother had called him in a panic and asked if her daughter could crash with him until campus sorted it out.
So here I am living under his roof. First day in New York. First night in his home. And already, I’m shaking in my bed and fighting the kind of hunger I should never admit to.
\~~~
I barely sleep, rolling on the sheets, hot and restless.
By the time the smell of food drifts from the kitchen the next day, I feel like I’ve lived a hundred hours inside my own head.
Stan, my twenty five year old stepbrother sits at the table with his girlfriend Inker. A couple of beer bottles sweating on the wood, plates scattered between them.
“Morning, Country,” Stan says with a crooked smile, his eyes sliding over me. “Survived your first night in New York, huh?”
“Yeah.” I say, voice scratchy. “Thanks for asking, New York.”
He won’t stop calling me ‘Country’ because I spent my whole life in the countryside, Dakota.
Inker leans her chin on her hand, watching me with a smile that’s too sly. “Hope I didn’t disturb your sleep.”
He tips the bottle back and lets out a deep, easy laugh.
My cheeks burn before I can stop it. I sit and open my plate of food, trying to act casual. “You mean…?”
“Yeah,” she says, smirk widening. “The moans. The bed squeaking.”
Stan chuckles, shaking his head. “You really went all out last night, huh? I almost forgot how loud you can be.” He glances at Inker, grin wide. “Guess living under my roof comes with a show now and then.”
“Oh, come on! Don’t talk about your sex life in front of me,” I say, scrunching my nose and pressing my lips together and wishing the floor would swallow me.
They glance at each other like they’re sharing a secret without saying a word.
“There’s nothing wrong with it,” he says, shrugging. “You’re not a kid anymore. It’s not like it’s new to you.”
Inker’s eyes light up as she adds, “Exactly. You’re a college girl now. Old enough to know what the world sounds like when two people are fucking.”
My fork scratches my plate. My appetite’s gone but I chew anyway, because I don’t know where else to put my mouth.
“Trust me I know. But you really don’t have to replay that for me.”
I gather the dishes just to escape and bolt for the kitchen. The running water in the sink is a relief, masking the sound of my heartbeat. Then I feel that warmth of someone stepping in close.
“Leave those,” Inker murmurs as she slides up beside me. “I’ll get them later.”
Her hand brushes mine on purpose and a spark shoots up my arm. A soft, breathy “mmmh…” escapes me before I even realize it.
Her fingers drag slowly over my skin, sending a warm shiver racing down my spine and low into my core, leaving heat everywhere she touches.
She stands too close, her smoky and sharp perfume filling my nose and making my chest feel tight. My nipples tighten against the thin cotton of my shirt, hard enough to sting when the fabric shifts.
I can’t help the soft gasp escaping my lips.
My thighs squeeze together and I still tremble. My pulse pounds in my wrists where she just touched and I pray she can’t feel how my whole body is fighting not to lean into her.
“What are you doing?”
Her mouth curves. “Relax. I just wanted to say… you’ve got a good view last night, didn’t you?”
The plate slips a little in my hand, clattering against the sink. “What?”
“I saw you,” she says softly, eyes gleaming. “The door was opened, you were watching. And I know what that did to you.”
My skin ignites, shame and desire crashing together in my chest. “You’re crazy.”
She lets out a soft laugh like we’re already sharing something dirty. “Baby girl if you need a release, I can help you with it. You don’t have to keep all that tension bottled up.”
Shock hits me, followed by a darker, hungrier pulse. She presses closer, her hip brushing against mine.
“You’re… you’re my brother’s girlfriend,” I manage to whisper, throat tight.
“And?” she tilts her head, lips close to my ear. “Don’t be so stuck up, Cassie. You’re in New York now. Nobody’s exclusive here. And you know I’ve always had a thing for you.”
Her eyes flick down over me unapologetically.
“You’re a hot girl, Cassie. I could make you melt in minutes. I know you loved what you saw.”
Before I can answer, her hand slides down, gripping my ass firmly and delivering a sharp smack through my thin shorts.
I gasp, a breathy “ahh…” escaping as a jolt of heat races through me.
Then she pulls back, laughing as if she hasn’t just undone me in a few seconds. “Next time, don’t hide in the hallway. Come closer. I’ll make sure you’re the one moaning.” she teases and walks out, her hips swaying as if she knows I’ll be watching.
I grip the edge of the sink, my breath uneven, still trembling from what just happened.
I’ve never done anything with a girl before.
And now? I can’t stop imagining it.