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MY OLDER STEPBROTHER does whatever he wants to me.
I don’t mind. I love it.
In fact, I was dreaming about him fucking me, and it’s almost like I manifested that dream into reality. Because when I woke up, his lips were inches from my ear. His huge cock hot-dogged my ass crack.
I was wet instantly. Even before waking up fully.
And now I’m a cum-covered mess. As usual.
This weekend has been one for the history books. There’s no other way to put it: Decker Shore is the man of my dreams.
In three short days, he’s learned how to push every one of my buttons in just the right way. He frustrates me and then has me coming so hard I can’t think straight. He fucks me into a coma. He makes me wear silly things like a vibrator in public, so all I can think about is sex constantly.
I’m turning into a rotten-brained bimbo.
And I don’t care.
I feel like my transformation from brat to bimbo is almost complete. Decker has changed me with his cock and his cocky attitude. He’s made me realize things—awoken me sexually in a way that I doubt any man will ever be able to replicate.
Except Decker doesn’t see me that way—a bimbo.
To him, I’ll always be his little brat. His playful cumdump. His fat-assed cocksleeve. All he sees is his hot little stepsister with the spunky attitude and pretty face he can spray his cum all over.
He uses me like a toy and seems to forget me.
It makes me feel so humiliated and wrong. So naughty and disgusting and depraved.
My bed is soaked with my cum. My body is soaked with his. There’s pools of drool all over my pillow from where I spit and frothed while he choked me with his arm and then hooked his fingers into my mouth.
God, I felt like such a little slut when he did that. It was so raunchy and wrong.
What gives him the right to do all this to me? To say mean things like what he said about Mom? To be so hot and dominant? To make me so maddeningly horny all the time?
I’ve just woken up, literally twenty minutes ago, and I already want to go again.
Knowing Decker and his apparent lack of a refractory period, he probably wouldn’t deny me.
He likes fucking me just as much as I like it.
He doesn’t even ask. He woke me up with his cock against my butt, and proceeded to pulverize me before I could even speak.
Now I feel like sleeping again.
But my brain jolts to life. I’m not tired anymore—not like that. Just worn out and used up.
It takes a few minutes to get my pulse back to normal; to keep my pussy from quivering, and my body from trembling.
A dull headache comes raring to life and I sit up and put my hand to my head. I’m soaked in clammy sweat.
I need a shower.
If I invite Decker, we’ll never get anything done around here. We’ll never leave the house, and it looks like a beautiful day outside.
I say, “Shit, I left my car at Tash’s house. At the party.”
Decker is sitting on the edge of the bed, not looking at me. “Oh? What’s it doing there?”
I blush. Avert my gaze from his sexy, shirtless body. “I left it there. Got too drunk to drive and Ubered home.”
“Smart, little sis.”
“I need a shower.”
“I know. I can smell me on you from here.”
My blush deepens. Goddamn him.
He looks over his shoulder and gives a crooked grin, then winks.
I stand and put my finger out, wagging it. “No, no, no. No shower sex. Not right now. We don’t know when Mom might be home.”
I can’t let my Mom find out about us. It would be devastating—the kind of thing that could forever fracture the family unit.
I can’t let that happen when things are going so well between me and my stepbrother. We’ve bonded so well during his weekend vacation here.
I can’t give that up!
He pouts. “Fine. Your loss.”
I bite my lip. His boxers are on, but the way he’s sitting with his legs splayed, his limp cock pokes out under the hem of them.
God, he’s fucking huge. Even soft. It’s alarming.
And fucking hot.
I want to crawl on my hands and knees to him, apologize, and take his big dick into my mouth. Suck him off and tell him, well, maybe we can have some shower sex.
But I resist. Somehow.
Instead, my head lifts when an idea comes to mind. “Think you could give me a ride to the car? Mom’s probably pissed it’s gone.”
He shrugs. Stands. His cock is barely hiding now, the boxers falling over it, but the bulge is still enormous and lickable. “Sure. I’ve got nothing going on today. I’m on vacation.”
“Yeah, you’ve made that very clear . . .” I scratch my head, unable to stop the stain of red from blooming in my cheeks again.
He’s having the vacation of a lifetime. Lucky guy.
“Is that how you thank your big brother for helping you?”
I blink. Frown. “I . . . I’ll figure out a way to thank you later on, Deck. I swear.”
He pats me on the shoulder. “Oh, I know.” He winks at me before heading for the door. “I hope it’s good, sis. I leave in tomorrow night.”
My heart sinks.
I almost forgot Decker won’t be here forever. Won’t be able to satiate my needs during the week—or maybe the weekends if he doesn’t feel like coming down to visit.
When I’m in the shower, I think of ways to make him stay.
I can’t let him go. He’s my everything.
And I know if I let him go for too long, he’ll forget all about me. He’ll find another little slut to ride his cock in the morning hours.
There’s no way I’m letting that boy go.
* * *
THE SHOWER HELPED WITH my hangover, but Decker’s motorcycle completely kills it. The wind in my face, blowing my hair, is just the serum I need to feel normal again.
Deck rides at a leisurely pace. It’s Saturday afternoon in sunny San Diego, and the weather is perfect. Like usual.
When we reach a hill, the Pacific Ocean paints the horizon in sharp whites and blues. It’s glassy as hell—probably good surf right now—and it looks like a dream.
I’m so lucky to live where everyone else comes to vacation.
I have my arms wrapped around Decker’s strong body. He’s in his leather bomber jacket and I can feel every tight muscle underneath it, flexing as he rides.
The man is a king. Carved from marble and with a dick of gold.
I’m well and truly obsessed with him. And it happened so fast.
We reach Natasha’s house. Last night it was bumping with loud electronic music and colorful neon displays and lights shooting out the window when I arrived—high schoolers hanging out the windows and yelling and cheering as they got hammered. People fucking in the bathrooms. Molly being taken and coke being snorted in the bathrooms. The perpetual smell of weed through the halls.
Now, in daylight, it looks bleak. Much different.
I mean, Natasha’s family owns a mansion, so it looks nice, but nothing like how I remembered it last night.
I almost feel bad for even going to the party. But I was forced into it by my mom, when she said that Decker couldn’t go, but I had to.
What a turnaround. My plan to fuck Decker in the bathroom of Tash’s house, and show all the mean girls the caliber of man I’m pulling, backfired tremendously.
Cole Beckett hit on me all night. The friendly jock didn’t do anything wrong, but I wasn’t interested. Not when I had Decker waiting at home, probably seething and waiting for my return.
Imagine his disappointment when I came back so drunk I could hardly stand, and promptly fell asleep face-first on my bed.
That must be why he woke me so . . . excitedly this morning.
I’ve been meaning to ask him what he and my mom did all night, alone in the house.
I almost don’t want to know.
Was he even kidding when he said he fucked her?
That would be heartbreaking . . . I think. I guess I need to know for sure before I can figure out how to feel about it.
It’s all hypotheticals.
Anyway, I almost made out with Cole. That’s as far as I went, but at the last second I pussed out.
Thank God for that. I know that in my right mind, sober, I wouldn’t have done it. I’d feel horrible if I did.
Maybe in the future when Decker is gone and I’ve come back down to earth from this fairytale, but not right now.
Not when I’m riding on the back of Decker’s Harley, feeling the wind in my hair and the chiseled peaks and valleys of his body firmly against mine.
I get into the car and follow him home. He continues slowly, taking a scenic route along the La Jolla beaches, checking out the surf. He says hi to a few people he recognizes—surf rats from his days in high school, no doubt—and gives them nods before zooming off.
Mr. Popular over here. At home after long last.
The whole trip takes about an hour.
When we’re home, I buzz open the garage and swing the car in.
The garage is empty, of course, but for some reason my mind doesn’t go there.
Empty garage means no mom. At least it always has in the past.
I turn the car off and get ready to step out. Decker’s motorcycle has turned off, but I’m still surprised when the passenger door suddenly opens.
I glance over and Decker is sitting in the passenger seat.
He smiles at me.
I furrow my brow at him, confused. “Um. Hi?”
“I’ve figured out a way you can thank me.”
I tilt my head, curious what’s on his mind.
He spreads his legs, opens his fly, and reaches into his jeans. It’s a struggle pulling it out, but eventually he comes out holding his hard cock in his fist.
Wagging it.
My eyes widen. “Oh my gosh, Decker. What the hell!”
He smiles and bobs his eyebrows at me. “Doesn’t he look beautiful?”
I frown. “That’s . . .” That’s not a lie.
I can’t take my eyes off it.
I look in the rearview mirror. The garage door is still open, letting in sunlight behind us.
It’s almost like we’re in public . . . but not quite.
Wetness builds between my legs.
We fucked less than two hours ago, and he’s ready for more. The man is incorrigible. Unstoppable.
“Your lack of an answer tells me it is,” he says. “And the way your eyes eat it up.”
“What, you think I’m gonna blow you in mom’s car?” I ask, lifting my eyes from his cock after a long, long moment of staring.
He shakes his head. “No. You’re going to sit on it.”
“Like hell I—”
He’s already reaching over, grabbing me.
I yelp and laugh, trying to fight him off. My door is open, and I almost make it out.
Then he chuckles and yanks me in.
I bring the door closed with me.
It’s a struggle fitting both of us in the SUV front seat, but he manages to wrangle me over the center console until I’m basically flat on my back, looking up at him, with his cock prodding my backside.
It feels hot through my dress.
I’m wearing a skirt that goes halfway to my knees. It’s not exactly the most reserved outfit, but it was a sunny day, so . . .
His hand curves between my legs.
I smash his wrist between my thighs.
His fingers find my pussy, eyebrows rising. “You’re not even wearing panties, naughty little girl.”
I grin wickedly at him. I anticipate him sinking his fingers inside me, and close my eyes, waiting, hoping.
Then my body is moving and I’m crying out again, giggling with hysterics. “God, Decker, stoppp!” I whine, my full brat-mode coming out.
He gets me upright, sits me on him. His cock curves in front of me like an oversized banana. It’s massive, rising up past my belly button to my ribs.
Decker’s hands hook beneath my armpits and he grunts as he lifts me higher. I have to bend my neck so I don’t smack my head on the car’s ceiling.
Next time when he plops me down on his lap, his cock spears inside me.
He does it so effortlessly.
My thoughts fade away in an instant, mouth falling open on a silent wail.
My dress is still bunched around my thighs, but he clutches fistfuls of those so he can look over my shoulder and watch his cock jutting into me.
I put a hand to my belly. I can feel his cock penetrating so deep in this cowgirl position.
My fat ass rises. I can’t help it, I’ve got to fuck this boy.
When it falls, it claps.
And here we go again.
My palms fall on his thighs. I ride slowly, trying not to go too high so I don’t hit my head.
Suddenly, after five minutes of soft riding, the seat flies backward.
I yell, air whooshing out of my lungs in a moment of weightlessness.
He laughs, grabbing hold of me.
Now I’m almost parallel with the ground. Leaned far back, my whole body weight on top of Decker. But he doesn’t seem to care.
He keeps fucking, now having more leverage to use his legs. He can fuck me how he wants—violently—and there’s nothing I can do. Not when his arms are hugging my middle and my whole body is in his control.
I put my feet up on the dashboard, bending my knees.
He rails up into me and groans in my ear.
He hits that special spot. It’s the angle. The size. It’s that one spot that does all the things.
And I’m coming and squirting all over. The pressure is too much to take, having him underneath me fucking me like a rabid bunny.
My clenched eyes pop open and I gasp.
A geyser of liquids shoots out of my pussy, sunflowering all over his cock. The jet of juices arcs and sprays all over the windshield and dashboard, blurring our vision out the window.
I can’t help but laugh, slapping a palm over my lips. The sheer velocity was intense—almost as intense as the orgasm itself.
He tucks his arms under my thighs and lifts my legs higher. My shoe smacks the window next to me, the other leg bouncing in the driver’s seat.
I come again from the deep angle, my legs spread so far, my knees pressed against my tits.
And squirt again. More fluids splatter over the windshield. Dribbles out of me onto the seat.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” I moan. “I can’t believe I just did that!”
He pulls out quickly, lifting me slightly so he doesn’t abruptly come inside my pussy.
His dick rocks forward and then catapults back and slaps my belly when it’s free from my folds.
I look down—
Just in time to take a massive cumshot right in the face.
I did not expect that type of launch speed or height from him.
Another rope of cum splatters over my nice dress.
I’m left awestruck. Amazed at how we just defiled the car so easily. So quickly.
The whole passenger side of the windshield is covered in jizz and cum and clear lady juices.
The whole passenger side of my mom’s car.
My stomach drops. “Oh fuck,” I say, with Decker’s cum dripping down my chin.