Текст книги "Dick: A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance "

Автор книги: Nikki Wild

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Chapter 5

Jessica

“What happened to you last night?”

Becky called me the next evening just before bed like she always did, to talk about the day or vent our frustration. It was ritual we’d soon be nixing for face-to-face conversations on a nightly basis once we arrived at UCLA in a couple of days.

“I could ask you the same question,” I replied, lying back on my bed. There was something in my voice that was hard, almost like resentment, and I immediately knew that Becky heard it too. Too bad I couldn’t stop myself from talking. “How could you play that stupid game… and with Michael no less?”

“Hey,” she shot back defensively, “I didn’t know that it would be Michael… not that I’m complaining that it was. But how are you going to blame me for doing what you said we’d do—getting me kissed!”

“He’s my ex, Becky!” I said. “And from what I heard in there, you were doing so much more than kissing.”

There was silence over the phone for what almost seemed like a full minute. I wasn’t sure if Becky was mad or just embarrassed; either way, I felt like crap for calling her out like that.

“You don’t get to be all judgy,” she said, trying to keep her tone light, though there was a definite edge to the way she spoke now. She was mad, and honestly, I deserved it. “You both aren’t dating anymore, and I’m a big girl now. I can decide who I want to do… things with.”

“I just didn’t want you to get involved with a guy like Michael, that’s all,” I said, laying my head back on my pillow. “I wanted to do the best friend thing and look out for you, y’know?”

“You keep saying stuff like that, Jess, but I don’t know what it’s supposed to mean. What’s so bad about Michael?”

I sighed, rubbing my hand over my face. I hated talking about my time with Michael, even with Becky, and she knew that, but at the rate that she was pressing everything, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to keep what had happened between him and I a secret for very long.

“Michael started out fine,” I began. “We did all the normal couple things that you’re supposed to do. We went on dates and went to the movies and kissed.”

“That doesn’t sound so terrible,” she said.

“I’m not done yet. After the first few months, things started to change. We’d be talking about things like school, and I’d correct him on something—usually something small, like the order of some historical event. And whenever I did that, he would get so mad.

“I didn’t think anything of it at first, and he just glared at me and we finished our date. But after the two of us were alone…” I paused, swallowing hard as I remembered the way my cheek stung from that night. “He slapped me across the face. He told me never to correct him like that in public—or ever. He was so loud and so angry that I just told him ‘okay’ so that he’d stop.”

“That doesn’t sound like Michael…” Becky said, her tone doubtful.

“Maybe not the Michael you know,” I said, wiping a tear from my eye. “It got so much worse than that, though.”

“Maybe you’re just making it seem worse than it was,” she said, trying once again to make an excuse. “Look, if you’re jealous because I’m sleeping with him now…”

“That’s just it, Becky,” I explained. “Michael and I never had sex the entire time we were together. Not even once.”

“That can’t be true,” Becky said.

“He wanted to—all the time—but I told him that I wasn’t ready yet. It didn’t feel like the right time. That made him angry.” I stopped for a moment to try and steady myself, my eyes shut tight against the tears. “He kept slapping me and grabbing me, telling me that if I didn’t give it to him like I was “supposed to,” he would keep hurting me. He’s not a good person, Becky.”

“Jessica,” she whispered, her voice faint. “Oh, my God… I’m sorry.”

“He pulled out a fistful of my hair,” I continued, swallowing hard to keep my voice from cracking. “And after that, he told me that he was done with me. He didn’t want ‘some cow that didn’t put out.’_”

Silence once again reigned over our conversation, both of us recovering from everything I’d just laid bare to her. I’d hoped that I would never have to tell her, or anyone, what Michael had done, and that the world would just move on and I could get on with my life. But I couldn’t let my best friend walk right into a relationship with the man who’d abused me for almost a year. I was lucky I got away from him, and if I could keep Becky from ever knowing that pain, then I’d do it, even if it cost me our friendship.

“I love you, Becky,” I sighed. “You’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to a sister. So I need you to make me a promise that you’re never going to see Michael. I need that promise from you before I can sleep tonight.”

“I… If you’d have told me, I would never…” she started, and I could practically picture her chewing on her lip in deliberation. “Okay, Jess. I promise.”

“You’re not upset?”

“I had a little fun and nothing bad happened. Besides… He wasn’t the only one I took to the closet last night.”

“Oh God Becky!”

“It was my last big bang here, cut me some slack. It’s in the past. I’m not mad Jess... Next time, stop me when I’m about to go down on an asshole!”

“Thank you,” I said with a sigh of relief.

“Let’s talk about something else… anything else,” she pleaded, trying to bring the tone back toward something more positive.

“Like what?”

“How about the real reason you left the party last night,” she said, sounding a lot more conspiratorial. “I hear about what happened.”

I let out a groan, having hoped that she’d forgotten all about my hasty exit from the party. It had been probably the most mortifying experience of my entire life, and not one that I was interested in repeating.

“Do we have to talk about that?” I asked.

“You left me right in the middle of our own party. If you expect any kind of forgiveness, you’re going to give me every single one of the juicy details. I want to hear every little thought that went through that head of yours.”

“I hate you so much,” I whined before heaving a sigh of surrender.

“But you love to hate me, just like you love hating that hunk of a brother of yours—well, maybe not exactly like that.” Becky let out a fitful giggle, and I could imagine her rolling around on her bed at her own joke.

“Are you ten, or something?” I asked, shaking my head.

“Spill the beans!” she crowed. “Don’t distract me from the goal, and the goal is juicy, quasi-incestuous fantasies!”

“You’re so weird,” I sighed again. “Right after he sent Michael into the closet with you, the asshole started in on me.”

“I heard Dick asked you a question. How was that bad enough to make you run out on the party?”

“Would you please stop calling him that? He asked me who I wanted to fuck out of everyone in the room,” I said, swallowing as I pictured Richard sitting there on the floor in front of me, the way his pants bulged as he watched me squirm. Already, I could feel my sex heating up in anticipation.

“Holy fuck,” she whispered, though I could tell she was beaming from ear to ear on the other end of the line. “That’s so fucking hot.”

“Becky!”

“What?” she asked, trying to hold in her giggles. “It is! You don’t think he actually knows that you want to—”

“I don’t know… but he certainly seemed to like watching me torture myself about answering the question.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” I said, trying to say it in a way that didn’t sound so horribly crude. “He got a… an erection while he was trying to get me to answer.”

“Are you serious?” she asked, gasping. “Oh, my God! Jess, do you think…”

“I don’t know what to think, Becky. I felt like I was trapped in there. I mean, if I’d said someone else’s name I’d have to deal with some guy breathing down my neck for the rest of the party, wanting to take me into a closet! And if I’d told the truth, I’d have had to sit there while everyone I knew listened to me confess about how I wanted to fuck my own stepbrother.”

“Yeah, that’s messed up,” she sighed. I could hear her switching positions on her bed, trying to get more comfortable. “Now that you say it, I don’t really blame you for getting the hell out of there.”

“I just want to get the hell out of here,” I grumbled. “I don’t think I can handle another week living with him in the next room, or even in the same house. After I’m safely at UCLA, then maybe I can think about having a normal life again.”

“You and me both,” Becky said, a yawn distorting her voice. “I think I might need to get to sleep, Jess. I’m beat.”

“Goodnight, Becky,” I said and stretched myself out on the sheets, casting my phone onto my bedside table where it would spend the rest of the night.

I sprawled across my bed, staring up at the stucco texture of my ceiling, contemplating the way the lights cast random tiny shadows across its surface. Soon, I’d be free from my stepbrother and free of the unwanted, taboo desires he stirred within me.

“Dick…” I whispered into the dark, shaking my head. Why the hell was I calling him that? His little nickname had always been annoying, but now it just seemed fitting.

I could feel my body stirring, replaying the hard outline of that massive rod in his pants again and again. Pretty soon I’d be parted from the Dick in more ways than one. I wished I could remove him from my mind… To exorcise him like the unholy influence he was. I’d always been such a good girl, never relenting in the face of Michael’s abuse when it came to my own virtue, but when it came to Dick, my thoughts were more than just the girlish fantasies of an inexperienced woman—they were downright sinful.

I imagined my stepbrother behind me as I knelt on my hands and knees, my back arched and ass thrust into the air with my legs spread wide in welcome. I could only speculate what his thrusting rod would feel like as it pushed past my velvet folds and drove deeper into my warm, slick pussy. I took in a sharp breath, exhaling out in a hiss through my teeth as my self-control gave way, and I slid my hand under the band of my lacy panties.

I was already soaked as I closed my eyes; all the better to picture what my stepbrother’s monstrous member would look like as I spread my virgin lips to either side. My fingers easily found the hard little nubbin of my clit, evoking a soft, trembling gasp as I began to run the tip of my middle finger in slow circles around it. I bit down on my pouting lower lip to stifle the cry of relief that threatened to give me away. The walls were paper-thin, and along with my parents, I didn’t need anyone hearing my tremulous cries as I came all over my fingers to the thought of his thickness buried deep in my silken folds.

I gasped silently looking down at myself as I teased and toyed wickedly at the tiny bulb of my womanhood, working it with a practiced hand to drive myself deeper into the throws of my own climax. I let out a shuddering breath, my breasts heaving as I pictured my stepbrother’s cock slipping into my mouth, pushing into my throat the way I’d seen in so many videos online.

My mind flitted through fantasy after fantasy, all of them involving my stepbrother driving himself hard into the depths of my body, pounding my drenched, hungry quim until I screamed for the sweetness of his seed gushing into me. My body trembled at the thought of his essence spilling into me, the thrill of the risk of what might come of his warm spunk dripping out of my slit. I closed my eyes and embraced the tightness growing between my hips. The pleasure radiating from my clit was electric, my back arching as I fought with all my might to keep from making a sound for fear of being given away.

Deep down in the unreasoning parts of my mind, I yearned to cry out, to whimper Richard’s name to the silence of my bedroom in the hopes that just next door, my stepbrother would hear me and know that I was touching my unspoiled pussy at the mere thought of him.

A knock at my door nearly made me yelp as I was ripped from my fantasies and back to the dissatisfaction of cold reality. My heart was racing as I swallowed hard, trying to shake the husky tone from my voice before I spoke.

“Who… who is it?”

“Jess?”

Richard’s voice rang from the other side of the door, a deep, scratchy growl that made my heart flutter with that single syllable. I bit my lip before I even dared to answer, my lustful desires pleading to be fulfilled, daring me to open the door in my lust-soaked panties and pull him into my bed. But no matter how much I wanted to feel him on top of me, inside of me, claiming my innocence for himself, I couldn’t even conjure the air in my own lungs to respond.

“Listen,” he began, “I’m sorry for what I did at your party. I didn’t want to ruin it for you. I honestly don’t know what I wanted, but I just… I wanted to apologize for what I did. Hell, you’re probably not even awake, but I figured that I’d at least try… I can understand if you don’t want to talk to me. I don’t blame you one bit. I was a jerk—no, I was a complete asshole. And I don’t blame you for hating me.”

I heard the soft rattle of the doorknob as he made an effort to see if I was even there, only to find it locked. Richard knew I like my privacy, but part of me wished I’d left my door unlocked. My clit throbbed, still engorged with blood after my incessant torture in the pursuit of my orgasm. The thought of Richard being just beyond the door didn’t help my lustfulness in the slightest, thinking about how exciting it would be to cum as he sat there, none-the-wiser. I bit my lip even as my hand wandered back between my thighs.

“You’re ignoring me, I guess,” he said after a moment of awkward silence. “I guess I just wanted to tell you that I’m going to miss you when we’re away from home. I don’t hate you. In fact I respect you, Jessica. You’re the smartest person I’m ever going to meet, and I’m sorry I hurt you.”

I couldn’t believe what I’d just heard. My eyes widened as I listened to his soft footfalls moving away from the door, letting me know that for now, I was all clear.

He respects me? I thought, lying back on my bed.

I took a slow, deep breath, my eyes closed in an attempt to calm my heart, but as my adrenaline subsided my still aching clit gave me a reminder of its needs. Despite the near heart attack I’d just suffered, listening to his soothing voice did nothing to abate my lust.

If anything, I was hornier than ever.

Chapter 6

Dick

I hadn’t realized just how much stuff I had until the day I had to fit it all into a suitcase.

Class was only a few days away, and over the last week, I had made more than a few phone calls to set up what had been one of the hardest choices of my life—while at the same time being one of the easiest choices I had ever made. As I stared at the strange emptiness of my room, I began to realize the weight of what leaving for school meant to me, and even what this huge change in my life was going to mean down the road. It was a heavy sensation, the idea that what I was doing couldn’t be undone—or if it could, then even that would have consequences for me along the line. But I knew, deep inside, that I was making the right choice.

Ever since the night of Jessica’s party I had found my thoughts wandering to her more and more, especially in the small hours of the night as I sat agonizing over the days to come. I kept imagining the way she’d looked at me, how her eyes seemed to eat me up from head to toe, hungry for what she knew she couldn’t have. It had been hard not to get an erection as she looked at me, practically licking her lips.

I took a breath and closed my eyes, trying my hardest to banish the awakening serpent that lay between my thighs back to sleep. I was finding it harder than usual to stay in the same room as Jessica ever since that night, wondering if her eyes stole lustful glances at me whenever I wasn’t looking. And now, on the eve of leaving for college, I wondered just how I’d make it through the day without giving in to my desires.

I had to keep reminding myself of who she was, of the consequences of my actions if I dared to even taste that forbidden fruit.

But it’s not really forbidden, a voice would remind me, especially as I watched Jessica leave a room, that tight little skirt conforming so well to her round ass.

I had to tell myself that no matter what I wanted, what I craved, I still needed to resist.

As the smell of breakfast wafted upstairs, I began to feel my stomach gurgle in protest, longing for the taste of bacon and eggs. One thing I’d always miss about home was my dad’s cooking—something that no campus diner could ever replicate.

Deciding that I’d packed enough to see me through at least a few months of college on my own, I zipped up my suitcase and set it down next to the small pile of boxes that I was bringing with me.

With everything packed I headed downstairs to grab myself something to eat, hoping that I’d just miss Jessica before she decided to skitter out from her room. I could only hope that she was planning to avoid me just as much as I was her—the awkwardness of the party was more than enough make things weird for both of us, especially in our own home. It would have been best if Jessica and I could have avoided one another.

But I’m not that lucky, and it was about to get much, much worse.

“Richard?” my dad called as I came down stairs. His tone of voice was not the kind you’re hear from a man totally pleased with his life—though, my dad was never pleased with his life. “Can you come here a second?”

Uh-oh, I thought, freezing on the stairs, contemplating just heading back to my room, blaming the sound of footfalls on our cat, Bandit.

“Richard!” he called again, and I knew there was no escape.

Resigning myself to what was to come I continued down the stairs, my stomach clenching tight as I waited for the yelling to begin. I wasn’t by any means afraid of my father. I was a foot taller than he was and a great deal more muscular to boot, not to mention I knew exactly how to use every bit of that muscle in a fight. No, what always made me anxious about my dad yelling was his penchant to completely overreact.

“Yeah, Dad?” I asked as I stepped into the kitchen. Just as I feared, he had the same look he always got whenever she was angry. His face was red and sweat had started beading on his temple. I’d likened him to a boiler about to burst on more than one occasion.

And to make things even worse, Jessica was sitting at the kitchen table. Her eyes locked onto mine, and I had to try my damnedest to pull my gaze away from her and back to my fuming father.

“What the hell is this?” he asked, shaking a piece of paper that looked like it had been folded up into an envelope. I frowned. Had he gone through my mail?

“You tell me,” I said, “since you’re holding it in your hand. What is it?”

“It’s a letter from Yale,” he began, doing a poor job of keeping an even tone to his voice. “It says that ‘they’re sorry that you’ve decided to choose a different university, and that they wish you luck with you new academic ventures.’ Now, if I remember right, you and me had a deal: you’d go to Yale, get a full ride at one of the best schools in the country, and do better than I ever did. Wasn’t that our deal?”

“I had a better offer,” I said, glancing again toward Jessica. She looked like a deer in the headlights, trying to busy herself with a piece of toast so that she didn’t look like she was listening. Her cheeks were turning red again, and I needed every ounce of control not to pop a stiffy right there in the kitchen.

“What the hell could be better than Yale?” my dad cried, throwing his arms up in frustration. “You could have had everything that I didn’t—you could have gone to the school that I could have only dreamed of when I was your age! How could you throw all of that away for yourself, Richard?”

“Like I said, I had another offer from a different school. One that I like a lot better than the programs at Yale.” To tell the truth, Yale was probably my best option, but some things were way more important.

My father shook his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose, the letter still clutched tight in his hand. It had always been his dream to go to Yale, but an injury in his senior year of high school had lost him the same scholarship that had paved my way to any college I wanted. It only made sense to choose one of the top Ivy League schools in the country.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this to yourself, son,” he said, disappointment heavy in his voice. “You’re giving up on your dreams!”

“No, Dad,” I sighed. “I’m giving up on yours. Yale is amazing, but they draw some of the best athletes and academics in the country. I’ll always be playing second fiddle to some rich kid. You think that’s what I want?”

My eyes once again wandered over to Jessica, watching as she stole a quick, furtive glance at me from over the rim of her glass of orange juice. It was so hard not to get turned on by her, dressed in her pajama shorts and tight cotton top. Her nipples just barely peeked through the soft fabric. I couldn’t help but imagine what they would feel like against my lips, my tongue swirling around them.

“Now you listen to me,” my father snarled, “you always told me that you dreamed about Yale—about how it was the only school that you ever saw yourself going to! And now you do this to yourself? To me? We had a plan, Richard! You were going to bring this family back some glory!”

“I don’t fucking care about your glory, Dad!” I shouted. “Just because you can’t move on past the fact that you never got what you wanted doesn’t mean that I have to do it for you! I’ve picked another college. One where I can be the star instead of the bench warmer. I’m doing this my way and you can go fuck yourself.”

Jessica jumped as I raised my voice, as though I’d knocked her from some deep daydream. I could only imagine what she’d been picturing, though I imagined it had something to do with the stirring member between my legs.

“Don’t you dare speak to me that way, young man! I won’t be disrespected like that in my house!” my father hollered back at me, his eyes practically popping out of his ruddy face. His features were gleaming with a thin sheen of sweat as he slammed his fist down on the counter. “No child of mine—”

“I’m not a child!” I interrupted, taking a step closer. “I’m not some little boy you can boss around anymore! This is my education! My life! And I’ll go to whatever damn college I want, with or without your permission!”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jessica starting to squirm a bit, biting down on her lip as she watched my confrontation with my father.

Is this turning her on? I wondered, tensing as I imagined her panties soaking through beneath her pajama bottoms as she watched me. This was getting to be too much, I didn’t think I’d be able to hold onto my self-control—what little of it I still had. I couldn’t stop thinking about how under all of that nerdy exterior, my stepsister was a grade-A freak.

“You had better know what you’re doing, son,” my father said, snorting as he threw the letter down on the counter. “You had better be sure this is what you want.”

He turned away from me, storming out of the kitchen without so much as a second glance in my direction. My heart was pounding, but not from the shouting match I’d just had with my father. Jessica was still sitting there, her eyes locked onto mine as we stared at one another. I was losing control, feeling the stirrings of a throbbing erection coming on. I needed to get out of there.

Without another word I made my way out of the kitchen and back up the stairs to my room, my cock quickly stiffening inside of my tight jeans. My shaft began to throb as I shut and locked my door behind me, doing my best to breathe through the powerful urge that my stepsister had brought out within me. But after almost a minute of concentration, my erection proved to be far more stubborn than I had realized. There was only one to get rid of it.

I sat down on my bed, undoing the button and zipper of my jeans and sliding them down from around my hips. I retrieved my thick, pulsing shaft out from my boxers, wrapping my hand around its impressive girth. My body shuddered at my own touch, my eyes closing as I began to picture a girl from high school kneeling down in front of me, her mouth open and ready to take in my cock.

I slowly started to stroke my shaft, the pretty blonde cheerleader’s head bobbing up and down, working my cock between her pouty lips. I let my head fall back into the open air behind me as I worked my hand around the thick base of my dick, feeling it throb as I imagined the sensations of having myself balls-deep inside of a woman’s mouth, taking me all the way back into her throat and back out again.

But as I pictured the girl again, she was no longer the same blonde cheerleader, but the dark-haired image of Jessica, looking up at me from above her librarian-style glasses, her lips stretched around my cock as she took it deeper and deeper into her mouth. I gasped, suddenly feeling a rush of pleasure flood over me as I pictured my stepsister shoving my throbbing shaft deeper into her mouth, hungrily sucking on it as though her life depended on it.

I tried not to think about it, to focus my thought on any of the other women I’d had in the past year-and-a-half since my eighteenth birthday, but no matter how hard I tried, my thoughts always came back to Jessica. I let out a soft moan as I imagined Jessica hiking up her tight little skirt above her thighs, exposing the soft, glistening folds of her pussy, devoid of panties and ready to be filled with a thick, throbbing cock—my cock.

I pumped my dick faster, picturing my stepsister straddling my lap, her smooth thighs brushing against my hips as she slowly and excruciatingly lowered that bare pussy down onto my needy dick. I only wished I could have her, feel my shaft sliding between her drenched cunt just like I’d always dreamed—but this would have to do. I let out another soft, muted cry as I worked my thick base, imagining my stepsister riding me nice and slow, torturing me with my own desperate need. I craved her, needed to feel her warmth around my cock.

I felt my hips tighten, my body shuddering as I felt the impending climax rising inside of me. I was so close, so ready to release my seed.

“Give it to me, Dick!” I imagined her saying, her ass bouncing up and down as she drove my pulsing cock deeper and deeper inside of her, her tits bouncing before me as she moaned my name. “I need it!”

It was too much. The wild reaches of my own imagination drove me past the point of no return, pushing my off the cliffs of my own self-control and onto the crashing waves of my climax. I did my best not to cry out, feeling myself throbbing hard as my tip erupted with thick ropes of my cum, gushing again and again as I pictured Jessica, her head back as she reveled in the sensation of her stepbrother spilling his seed inside of her.

I closed my eyes, lying back on my bed, the waves of unadulterated pleasure still lapping over my mind and body. I knew that thinking about Jessica that way was wrong, but there was no denying just how good it felt to imagine her pussy wrapped around me, her naked body pressed to mine in the warm afterglow of imagined lovemaking.

Fuck Yale.

I was going to UCLA… With Jess.