Stepbrother Desires (2 page)

Michael

A few hours after gazing at Lydia’s luscious figure in the garden, I started on a book from my childhood. This particular read was a favorite that my father enjoyed reading to me before he and my mother split. The tale detailed the trek of a wolf that desired rabbits in a field. Though he had never tasted them before, he was sure that they were the best of the meats. After many failed attempts to catch a wild rabbit, the wolf found a hutch in a farmer’s yard. Using his intellect, he broke past the farm’s gates and ate the softest, most delicate rabbit in the hutch. The rabbit’s meat was not only delicious, it was more savory than he could have ever imagined.

Suddenly, there was a knock on my door. Likely, it was one of the many maids offering to turn my bed. I was nearly finished with the book, so I decided to ignore it. After a few moments, there was a knock again.

“Michael?” said Lydia’s voice from the other side of the door. “Are you in there?”

Quickly, I jumped up and tossed the book to the far side of the room. The fabric of my unbuttoned shirt spread open away from me as I briskly moved toward her voice.

“Hello,” I greeted her as I opened the door. She was wearing a bikini top that was so tight against her breasts that they nearly spilled over onto me. Below, she was wearing a translucent sarong that displayed the small amount of pink fabric that covered the rest of her.

“I brought you some of my fresh brewed lemonade,” she said as he handed me a glass. I was so distracted by Lydia’s attire that I hadn’t noticed the large glass of bright brink liquid she was holding in her hands. “You do like lemonade don’t you, Michael?”

“Yes, of course,” I said looking the glass over.

“How do you like your room?” she asked.

“I enjoy it very much,” I replied as I opened the door wider. “Come in.”

“Thank you,” Lydia said as she strolled inside the room, glancing over at the yacht themed décor, and cerulean walls. “I’ve lived her for a year now, but we’ve traveled so much that I haven’t been able to look at all of the rooms.”

“This was the one I always stayed in as a boy,” I explained.

“All of this manly yacht business,” she smiled as she touched a metal anchor lying on the corner across from my bed. “Doesn’t look very suitable for a boy’s room.”

“But it is,” I replied as I walked over to a black and white photo above her head. “Look at this picture.”

Lydia stood up and moved toward me, pushing her hair back behind her ears. I stared at her breasts as she neared me. They were evenly tan and perfectly delectable. I imagined them filling my hands with the smooth skin spilling over in ripples of juicy breast.

“Is that you?” she asked, completely unaware that I was studying her every womanly move.

“Yes,” I replied. “And that is my grandfather. We would sail twice a year from when I was ten years old until he passed. I love boats, sailing, and the seas.”

“Look at you,” Lydia gawked. “You were tall then, too. How old are you in this photo?”

“Fifteen,” I answered boastfully. “However, not nearly all of the height that I am now.”

“I can see that,” she said looking at me from the corner of her mascara-lined lashes. “I think you must have known you would turn out so handsomely. This may have been built by a boy, but it was intended for a man.”

“You could say that,” I smiled. Then I held the lemonade up to my mouth and sucked on the straw. A bitter, tart flavor filled my mouth. I didn’t want to be rude, so I lied. “This is delicious.”

“No, it isn’t,” Lydia said looking at me. “Sip from the side, where all of the sugar is on the brim.”

“Alright,” I followed her instructions, tilting the glass toward my mouth. “What’s the straw for then?”

“Stirring,” she laughed. “You’re silly.”

I drank the lemonade. Sweet and sour, the swirl of flavors collided together in my mouth.

“You must have them together,” she explained. “Mixing in the sugar wouldn’t have been the right amount for the flavor.”

“This is the absolute best lemonade I have ever tasted.” That wasn’t a lie. I continued to gulp down the pink drink until half of the glass was gone.

“Good!” Lydia said clasping her hands together. “I love it when a man likes my pink treats.”

I wondered if this was a Freudian slip. Had Lydia been smarter, I would have assumed that the phrase was intentional. However, the next thing that happened was a surprise to me.

“Hopefully, I can get the recipe,” I said to her.

“You know, Michael,” Lydia said as she walked toward me. “We’re family now and family shares things like recipes.”

“Of course,” I said before gulping down the last of the lemonade. Then her hand touched my shirt. For a few moments, she played with the open flap while lightly grazing her fingers against my bare chest.

“Are you aware of what family also shares?”

“What?”

“Secrets,” she said softly.

“Right,” I replied, not knowing where she was going. Then Lydia reached her perfectly manicured fingers into empty the glass of my lemonade.

              “Those windows over there,” she said gesturing to the ones that faced the garden. “They aren’t as concealing as you would think they would be.”

              “They aren’t?” I gulped, finding myself caught in between several moments. Then Lydia took out an ice cube and placed it under her bikini top. Slowly, she rubbed the ice against her nipple in a circular motion.

              “Ah…” she sighed. I didn’t know how to react. My eyes were transfixed on her mounds of breasts as she pleasured herself with the dripping ice. Suddenly, Lydia unfastened her top, revealing her perfect tits just inches from me. “Do you like these, Michael?”

              “Yes,” I nodded slowly.

              “Do you like touching yourself when you see them?”

              I nodded again.

              “Good,” she purred. “I loved seeing you today as you touched yourself. You made feel like a desired woman again.”

              I didn’t need any more words. This woman wanted cock, and she wanted it immediately. I pulled off my shirt and threw it to the floor. My hands lunged for her breasts pushing them upward toward my mouth.

              “Yes,” Lydia gasped. “Take me like a man, Michael.”

              The fullness of her breasts was everything that I had imagined. I sucked on the tips of her full, sumptuous balloons. My mouth watered as licked the surface and around the nipples. Lydia gave sounds of pleasure as I teased her with my tongue.

              Still, this tit play wasn’t enough for me. Seeing her half naked in front of me was heavenly, but I needed to pounce. I grasped onto her sarong and pulled it off of her body. As it fluttered to the floor, I reached her buttocks, lifting her high into the air. Then we moved to the bed where I threw her down. She bounced a few times with her melons jiggling.

              “Wild boy,” she giggled as I crawled on top of her.

              “Grrr…” I growled. Just as she began to giggle again, I moved my mouth to hers. We were kissing madly as I moved my hands to my shorts. Her full lips were like heaven against mind. Tingles shot down my spine and twisted until they came to the tip of my cock. I unfastened my pants and kicked the remainder of my clothes off in a heap onto the floor.

My cock was rock hard and pressing against her thigh as we kissed. My hands moved up, untied the thin fabric of her thong, and then I threw it across the room.  It landed on the photo of my grandfather and me that hung on the wall. It sways and fell off the hook, smashing the glass frame into pieces. I didn’t care about the picture. I didn’t even care that Lydia was my stepmother. My only thought was of shoving my cock deep inside of her warm, wet palace.

“Give it to me,” she begged. I grabbed the base of my cock and aimed the head at her pussy. It was a glorious hole with a neatly trimmed bushel at the top. I rubbed the outside lips, playing with the forming wetness that glistened.

With one movement, I shoved in my cock. A warm bath greeted me from inside of her. I let out of a groan of pleasure as I slipped in further. Just as I pushed in more, Lydia gasped.

“Slow!” she exclaimed.

“Sorry,” I muttered as I refocused on how amazing her pussy felt around my cock.

“Fuck, Michael,” Lydia gasped as I eased myself in all of the way. “You are a
very
big boy.”

“Yes I am,” I smirked as her legs curled up to her chest. Lydia’s breasts looked the best in this angle. As I fucked her, they jiggled at the bottom of her chin. Soon, it became a game for me to see how much I could make them bounce. Each thrust sent them flying into disarray. I felt my cock becoming so firm that it almost hurt.

“Ah!” Lydia called out as I pounded her into the bedding. Pillows began to jostle and fall off the sides of the bed. “Fuck me harder.”

I placed my hands on the iron headboard. Lifting myself into a pushup position, Lydia was now bunched together with her legs in the air. Then I slammed down on her, sending my fleshy sword deep inside of her. Slick noises of skin again skin sounded around the room as we fucked. Soon, her pussy became a geyser, sending warm juices all over my cock.

“I’m coming,” she said as she dug her nails in my back. “Fuck me, big boy!”

I didn’t stop my motion as I felt her pleasure spilling all around me.

“Come for me first,” I growled, knowing that she loved being manhandled. Lydia’s face squinted before she suddenly erupted. I was sure that her pleasure filled sounds were heard from all over the estate. Still, I didn’t care. A rush of heat swarmed my cock and suddenly I felt myself pumping, too. Just as my first spurt reached the top, I pulled out, sending splatters of my thick juice all over her breasts. Lydia leaned forward and began to suck the tip of my cock. She seemed to enjoy every moment of it mindlessly.

“
Vous êtes un bon garcon
,” Lydia said to me in perfect French. As I finished, I thought that perhaps she was more intelligent than I thought.

Audrey

              “I love horses,” Darla said as we trotted along the path along the south side of the property. Five days had passed since she arrived to the estate. Though I wanted to despise her, there was an unwavering innocence about Darla that made her difficult to dislike. We rode horseback toward the gates on two of my father’s mares. Lydia wanted to spend some time with Sebastian, so I volunteered to take Darla for a ride. I let her pick the first horse, which she didn’t realize was the one that I always rode. Still, I did not let on to this fact.

              “Did you have horses growing up?” I asked.

              “Oh, no,” she smiled. “I wish that were true.”

              “When did you learn to ride?”

              “Just this year. Sebastian takes me horseback riding nearly every weekend.”

              “I see.”

              “Your stepbrother is an amazing person,” she gushed. “Everyday he works hard to surprise with me new adventures, gifts, and evenings that I could never imagine other men doing.”

              “Lucky you,” I said as I gave her a forced smile. Darla had no idea that her recants of precious moments with Sebastian were like tiny little poison-tipped daggers shooting into my chest.

              “I find myself transfixed,” she continued. “Have you have been so in love with someone that you can’t constantly stop thinking about them?”

              “Can’t say that I have,” I answered as I turned my horse around. “We’re going to head back; the end of the trail is just shortly after these trees.”

              “Alright,” Darla said as she sloppily handled the horse. They did a multi-pivot turn like a fifteen-year-old with her learner’s permit. “Sebastian just gives me strength. I’m sure that you will find someone very nice soon.”

              “Perhaps,” I said tersely as we headed back along the path.

              “Have your parents been very accepting?” Darla inquired.

              “Accepting of what?” I asked.

              “I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I wasn’t trying to be rude. It’s just that my father was so angry over my brother. I’m sure that your mother, being in fashion, is very progressive.”

              “What are you talking about?”

              “I’ve gone too far. I’m sure it’s a non issue these days to be a lesbian.”

              “Who’s a lesbian?”

              “You are, aren’t you?”

              “Who told you this?” I could not believe what I was hearing.

              “Sebastian said that you were lesbian,” Darla looked confused. However, once she saw me fuming, she appeared to discontinue the conversation. Sebastian thought that he could just wash away what happened between us with a white lie. I wasn’t about to let him get away so easily.

              “Hi, ladies,” called a voice from a split in the path. I looked over to see Javier, youngest gatekeeper, waving with a black leather glove. He drove on a small electric car designed to survey the grounds. However, I knew that he had different motives.

Javier always made sure to greet me and to be on post when I arrived to visit the grounds. My father liked to joke that he had a crush on me. Javier was tall and extremely muscular with thick black hair and a sharp chin. He was around Sebastian’s age and very handsome. I might have found him more attractive if he weren’t a gatekeep.

              “Hello, Javier,” I said nodding back.

              “How are you all this afternoon?” he asked while staring at me. I’m sure that might tight riding pants were doing wonders for his imagination.

              “Quite well,” I replied.

              “How are you?” Darla asked.

              “Me?” Javier appeared to be surprised by the question. “I’m doing good also.”

              “That’s great to hear,” Darla smiled.

              “This is Darla,” I explained as we continued to trot. “She’s Sebastian’s guest.”

              “Ah, yes,” Javier smiled. “The fiancée. Soon to be your sister, no?”

              “I suppose so,” I said before giving a small, closed mouth smile. “We must be headed off, Javier.”

              “Of course, miss,” he said nodding.

              “Good meeting you!” Darla shouted.

              “You as well, miss!” Javier said while staring at us as we left.

              “He seems nice,” Darla said.

              “It’s his job to be,” I reminded her. Then we set off back toward the stables.