Stepbrother - Sex Stories

Stepbrother

I woke up with my hand in between my legs, furiously rubbing my clitoris. I hadn’t fully awakened from my steamy dream and in the lustful haziness, I imagined that it was his fingers that were pleasuring me. “Oh Jack,” I moaned as I felt myself getting closer to the edge. I gasped as the pressure on my aching nub intensified. And then I came, shuddering in my bed as pussy juice coated my hands. Now that I was awake and fully conscious of what had occurred, I buried my head into my pillow as a feeling of shame came over me. I’d dreamt of Jack again. That he was my step-brother didn’t make it any better. He was still family. I’d been nursing a crush on him for as long as our parents had been married. I was sixteen at the time, at the genesis of my sexual awakening. He was eighteen, tall and terribly gorgeous. He was a football player, popular and got all the girls he wanted. When I moved into his dad’s house with my mom, I had to go to his school. He was nice to me; let me ride with him to school and sit with him at lunch. I was pretty plain, to be honest. And I knew that if it hadn’t been for my association with him, I would have been a loser just like at my old school. But there, the popular clique embraced me. Pretty soon, everything about me changed. I started putting on make-up, wearing better clothes, going to parties. I told myself that I wasn’t doing all of that just to impress my big brother but it’s exactly what I was doing. What did I think was going to happen? We ...

... were siblings. Even thinking about it was wrong and yet I couldn’t stop longing after him. Things got better when he left for college. At least without him, around my fantasies could be controlled. I even started dating to forget about him but my relationships never went any further than heavy petting in the back seat of a car after a movie. I guess no one got my blood boiling the way my step brother did. But he was back now and his return thrust me back to that first year that our parents got married. I was dreaming about him constantly when I was asleep and awake. I took a shower, washing away the physical evidence of my shameful deed and went downstairs to make myself breakfast. It was around nine o’clock, meaning my mom and step-dad had already left for work and Jack was probably out on his run. I made bacon, eggs and toast while I thought of Jack. There was something different about him. Physically, he was even more of an adonis than when he was in high school. He seamed broader and leaner somehow. Maybe it was just because I hadn’t seem him in over two years (he usually went to his biological mom’s house for the holidays and breaks because it was closer to his college). But the changes weren’t just physical. It’s hard to explain what exactly in his personality had changed. He seemed a little more chipper. As nice as he’d been to me when he was in high school, he’d always been very serious and a little withdrawn. Now, he was almost a little “in your face.” Not in a brash ...