HUGE: A STEPBROTHER ROMANCE (HUGE Series)

I have no idea what’s going to happen next.  Harrison likes to talk himself up as a bit of a ladies-man, but I’ve never really seen him in action. Will he take my desire to stay in this little quiet room with him for what it is; an acceptance of whatever seduction he may or may not be planning?  Or, will he simply think I’m an anti-social weirdo who goes to parties on her own dressed like a gothic punk slut.

“You’re a strange girl,” he says softly and kind of tenderly.

“You make that sound like a good thing,” I say and he smiles.

“I guess I must like strange.”

I don’t realize he is going to touch me until I feel his finger stroke softly over the skin on my neck.  That one finger sends the nerve endings in my back buzzing like crazy.  I feel like I’ve been jolted with electricity, or lust, or something equally exciting.  I know I’m breathing erratically as he continues stroking, and I can’t look at him for fear of what I’ll see.  While he’s doing this tender thing to me, I can pretend.  It’s just me and my stepbrother, sitting on the sofa, having a cozy chat.  But if I saw desire in his eyes it would be something totally different; something amazing and totally terrifying too.

“Why did you come to the party,” he whispers.

“I like parties,” I reply just as softly.

“And dressing up?”

“Yeah, that too.”

“And sitting in tiny book rooms with strange boys?”  His breath gusts against my ear when he murmurs the last thing and I shiver from head to foot.  I find that I can’t answer him now.  The mesmerizing rhythm of his finger and the scent of him that I pick up now he’s moved closer, are almost too much for me to bear.  I’m light headed, buzzing, crazy even.  Crazy for my stepbrother.

He doesn’t kiss my lips first.  I guess that would be too obvious for Harrison.  I should have known he’d go for the little patch of sensitive skin below my ear and just graze it with his soft lips. He nuzzles against my ear with his nose and the roughness of his chin scrapes against my neck.  It feels so good.  So amazingly good in fact that I moan just slightly.  When I do, I feel him smiling against my neck.

“So strange girls who come to parties alone and like to sit in little book rooms with strange boys like to get their necks kissed, do they?” he asks with a chuckle in his voice.

“Uh-hu,” is all I can manage and he laughs softly.

He shifts closer until our legs are pressed together and his hand is cupping the back of my head, pulling me towards his smiling face.

Harrison’s going to kiss me.  He’s going to kiss me and my heart seems to stutter in my chest and then re-fire at a staggering rate as I simultaneously pray the kiss will be mind-blowing whilst also hoping he won’t somehow remove my wig or mask and reveal who I am.

When our lips touch it’s the softest kiss I’ve ever experienced, just a graze at first really, then a little press as he angles my head, pulling my bottom lip between his and sucking so gently I want to weep.  I’ve imagined what kissing Harrison would be like so many times, but I had it completely wrong in my fantasies.  I thought he’d be a grabby person, demanding with his kisses and forceful with his demands, but he isn’t.

At least not now.

Now it’s like he’s tasting me, feeling me out, and trying to work out what I like.

I like it all.

I want to tell him to just carry on doing what he’s doing because he’s doing it all right.    He’s perfect for me in ways I didn’t even expect.

When our tongues touch for the first time I have to lean into him, take hold of his huge muscled shoulder, and dig my fingers into it, just so I don’t float away.  My reaction seems to spur him on because suddenly his kisses are more urgent, tongue sliding across mine like the precursor to fucking that it is.

It’s that thought that has me remembering what I saw when I walked passed his room,  the thing that spurred me to finally take action and do something about the lust and craving I’ve been feeling for Harrison since he moved into my house.   I want to reach out and rest my hand in his lap.  I want to know if he’s as turned on as I am.  Everything is so hot between my thighs.  I squeeze them together to try and release some pressure, but it only makes it worse.

“Fuck you’re hot,” he says, pulling back and looking me in the eyes.  My purple contacts are my protection against him recognizing me this close. He rubs my nose with the tip of his and kisses me again, this time hooking his arm around my back and pulling me forward. “Get onto my lap.” He’s tugging me now until my legs rest either side of his and my skirt is pushed up so high he must be able to see the tops of my holdups and my sheer black panties. He tugs me forward until my pussy is pressed into his lap and I can feel his massive dick straining against his pants.  It’s like he has one of those nightsticks that doormen carry down his shorts and it presses against my clit in a way that makes me want to buck against him.  Oh fuck. His fingers press into the soft flesh of my hips, delicious pain mixed with the pleasure of his frantic kiss.  I can’t control my hands that want to grab hold of big firm chunks of him and squeeze.  I settle on resting my hands on his chest, and what an amazing chest it is too.  In my mind I see him standing naked in his room, pecs rounded, and stomach flat and rippled with a six-pack I could practically file my nails on.  I don’t want all these clothes between us. I want skin against skin, pressing, sweating, sliding until we forget our names and lose our minds in each other.  I want to see him come apart because I’ve made him feel that good.  I want to watch him reach the moment of pleasure that feels so unbelievable that he forgets himself and just is.

And I want to store it all up in my mind so I can remember this moment when he’s moved on and found someone else to love and I have to sit opposite him at thanksgiving and pretend I don’t feel the way I do about him.  When I have to just be his stepsister again.

We kiss and we kiss and I run my hands over his chest willing him to do more, but he seems reluctant and I don’t understand why.  It’s me that slips my hands inside his costume and onto his naked skin.  He’s so warm under my fingertips and so firm and when I stroke across his chest, I find his nipple and graze it with the point of my nail.  Harrison jumps at the action but pulls me down against him harder, almost thrusting into my lap. His fingers run up the outside of my thighs until he finds the bare skin and squeezes.  He doesn’t stop there, pushing the skirt of my dress up around my waist and guiding his hands to cup the cheeks of my ass, fingering the thin lace running between, stroking down between them and lifting me higher. I’m kneeling up now, raised in front of him, looking down as he stares between my legs with fire in his eyes.  I grab onto the back of the couch for stability as he uses his index finger to trace a line down the front of my panties so softly I almost can’t feel anything, but at the same time it’s so unbelievably arousing.

“Can I look?” he asks huskily and I want to tell him he already is but I don’t want to break the spell with my smart mouth.  Instead, I slip my hand down between my legs and pull the material aside, baring myself to his heated gaze.

“Fuck,” he mutters, adjusting his cock before he sucks on his finger to get it good and wet.  I think he’s going to go straight for my clit, but I’m wrong.  Harrison reaches his wet finger up and slips it into my mouth.  “Suck,” he says, watching me move my head forward and take his finger down to the knuckle.  I look into his eyes as I pull back, knowing how explicit it must look to see my red lips wrapped around his finger like that.

He parts my pussy lips with one hand and uses his moistened finger to stroke my clit round and round.  The pressure he uses is just perfect and the way he concentrates on the task is driving me insane.  I roll my hips against his touch, look up to the ceiling and surrender to the intensity of feeling that being with Harrison this way is giving me.

“Oh yeah, you like that,” he says, slipping his finger downwards into my wetness, pressing up and in so slowly my legs shake.  “That looks so fucking good.” He pushes another finger in deep and twists his hand so first the tips of his fingers, then the joints graze my g-spot.  I start to move, raising up and down, hooked on his hand and on his words.  The sound of his voice hitching with arousal does something to me and I want to hear more.

“Tell me what you want,” I whisper.

“I want to feel you come,” he replies.  “I want to feel your pussy flutter and hear the moans you’ll make.  I want to play with your clit until it hurts and then make it feel so good you come again.”

“Oh,” I gasp when he uses his other hand to stroke my clit, fingers still pushing and twisting inside me.

“That’s it, baby.” Harrison’s voice cracks like he can’t believe what’s happening.  Maybe he wasn’t expecting to get lucky tonight.  Maybe he doesn’t usually do this kind of thing.  Maybe I’m a terrible corrupting influence on him.  It’s that thought that pushes me over the edge, grabbing onto the back of the couch and curing forward with my pleasure.

“Mmmm,” is the only sound that comes from my lips, a keening noise that sounds barely human.

“That’s it,” he says again, with a strange tone of awe in his voice as though he can’t quite believe what is happening either.  Then he pulls me towards him and wraps his arms around my waist, holding me tight while I come down from the place in the stratosphere he sent me to.  The kisses he presses onto my temple and cheek are tender and sweet.

“You look fucking amazing when you come,” he whispers in my ear.  I can hear the need in his voice and feel the evidence of his arousal beneath me.  I want to satisfy him too.

“Make me come again,” I say and he chuckles.

“Demanding little thing aren’t you,” he replies cockily but the look on his face when I draw back and start to undo his pants is priceless.  “Oh, you want that…”

“Yeah, I do,” I whisper.  “I want it all.”

“Fuck,” is all he can say, helping me as we both fumble with his zipper, fingers tangling in our shared eagerness to get to the really good stuff.  I let him free his cock and I watch as he fists the huge length of it, pulling it twice, up and down, so roughly that I think it must hurt.

When I raise my eyes to his he’s smiling lazily.  “You scared?”

“Nah, I love a good challenge.”

“You really are a very strange girl,” he says fondly, cupping my cheek and rubbing at the white make-up there.  Not wanting to give him too much time to study me I slip my hand into the top of my holdups and pull out the foil packet I hid there earlier and hand it to him.

“Get yourself ready.”

His eyes sparkle as he takes the condom, tears it open and begins to sheath himself. I was careful to buy a large size – he really needs it – and my forethought seems to amuse him.

“You only pull dudes with big dicks?” he asks.

I shrug.  “I throw back the tiddlers.”

His body shakes with laughter but stops when I grab hold of his cock and squeeze it hard.  I rise up over the top of it, stroking the head of it through my folds and up over my clit.  It’s so rigid, so large that it almost doesn’t feel real.  I know I’m going to struggle to take it all, but I’m going to try.  My pussy is practically weeping for it when I settle him near my hole and start to push down.

The stretching sensation is unbelievable, like nothing I’ve ever felt before.  I get it about an inch inside me by rocking my hips slowly and easing myself open around him.

“Fuck,” he says, throwing his head back.  “You’re so damn tight.”

“And you’re so big, baby,” I whisper.

“We’re perfect together,” he says grabbing my hips and helping me sink lower with little thrusts upwards.  I feel so unbelievably full and open.  He’s only part of the way in and it’s almost too much but then he pulls harder and slips in further and it feels so damn good I want to cry.  “Look,” he says, his eyes between my legs.  “Look at your sweet little pussy wrapped around my cock.”

I look when he’s starting and I can understand why.  He’s all but disappeared inside me and my pink pussy lips are flared around him like a split open rose.  It’s the most explicit thing I’ve ever seen.

“You feel so good,” I say, looking up into his eyes.

“You haven’t felt the half of it.”

He grabs hold of me around the ass, holding tight and shifts to the edge of the sofa.  Then he’s standing and walking us to a side unit near the door.  He sits me on top, still impaled on his dick, and moves the pictures and ornaments to a chair next to us.  So considerate.

When he’s done with the home furnishings he grasps my face around the chin and looks at me.  “You want me to fuck you, baby,” he growls.

I blink at the ferocity in his voice and my pussy clenches with excitement.

“I think I just got my answer,” he smirks.

The first thrust is slow as if he’s testing out the depth of me, and how much room he has to maneuver.  There isn’t much.  When he thrusts again it’s as if he’s decided he doesn’t give a fuck about anything.  It’s so hard it knocks the breath from my lungs and the last ounce of sense from my head. “You – want – to – get – fucked – hard,” he grunts as he works his hips against me, pushing that huge cock in and out of my swollen pussy.  I’m so wet I can hear the slippery noises loudly in the otherwise silent room.  The party seems to be going on in another reality and I don’t care that there are people out there that could walk in on us at any second, because what Harrison is doing to me feels too damn good to care about anything except the next thrust.

He pushes my thighs wide watching his cock spear me, his abs rippling and pecs flexing with exertion. His skin is shiny with sweat and I lean forward to lick his arm which is the only part of him I can reach.

“Bite me,” he grunts, hooking my legs over his shoulder and pressing me backward, caging me in with his ridiculously toned arms.  I turn my head and take a good chunk of his forearm flesh and bite hard.  I feel his cock kick inside me and want to laugh.  Who’d have thought Harrison with into pain?  I stroke over the teeth marks I’ve left with my tongue and he groans.  “Again,” he barks.

“Yeah baby,” I say, pushing my hips upwards, biting him again, even harder this time.

“Fuck,” he says, thrusting so hard the bit of furniture we’re on starts banging against the wall.

Harrison picks me up again, dropping down onto his knees with me still wrapped around him like some kind of desperate monkey.  He lays me on a soft rug and stretches out on top.  He’s so big and heavy and it’s bliss to be this powerless in his arms.  He grinds into me hard, bone to bone and he’s so deep it aches but still my clit is pulsing for more.  His face is pressed into my neck, breath hot and moist against my skin as he groans and pants.  My mask must be scratching his face, but he doesn’t go to remove it.  I wonder what it’s like for him to be fucking a chick dressed in goth-horror clothes and make-up.  It doesn’t seem to be bothering him at all.  Harrison’s hand gets busy pushing down the top of my dress and bra, exposing my erect nipple to the room’s cold air.  When he palms my breast and feels how turned on I am it makes him thrust even harder.

My pussy’s getting sore now but he isn’t letting up and I’m getting really close to feeling like I might come again.  It would be a first for me but his cock just feels so damn good I almost can’t bear it.

I start to moan in little bursts which make him rise up onto his arms above me.  He rolls his hips slowly as he looks into my eyes, grazing my clit with each pass, leaning in to kiss me.  My hips mirror his action and we move in perfect harmony, as if we have been doing this for years, and I catch a little smile on his lips when he sees me watching the action between our bodies.

“You like to watch?” he asks and then full out grins as though it’s a hilarious discovery.

“You put on a good show,” I reply and he laughs.

“I want you to put on a good show.  You getting close?”

“Yeah,” I whisper.  “Fuck yeah.”

“What do you need?” I die a little inside at how considerate he is.  I’ve had my fair share of lovers but most just rub away and hope for the best.  It has taken time and schooling to get them to where I needed them to be.  Trust Harrison to be mature about sex.

“Lie down on top of me,” I say.  “Hold me around my waist and fuck me as hard as you can.”

My request seems to amuse him, or maybe it’s my bluntness.  He asked so he got told.  Simple as that.

He does as I say, resting his full weight on me, with one arm slipped under my back and the other holding the top of my head.  I flinch, thinking about the wig and how, even though I pinned it securely in place, there is a chance it could come away in his grip.  Harrison is gentle, though, cupping rather than holding on.

Then he starts to fuck.

God, everything that came before was just an entrée.  He gives me the full ten-course meal and more.  I grasp him hard with my thighs as he pistons in and out of me like a machine.  It feels so good I can’t make any sound and he’s grunting with every thrust, sweat slicking between us wherever our skin is in contact.

“Oh god,” I say, feeling myself climbing higher and higher.  Harrison changes rhythm, backing out nearly all the way and slamming back in. Out, in, out…

…and then I’m coming so hard I almost pass out.  I think I must stop breathing because I see stars and my lips stick to my teeth as my mouth opens into a perfect O.  He slows down and rides me through it, and I wonder how it feels to have my pussy clamp down so hard on his dick.

“That’s it,” he croons, “that’s it, baby.”

I look up into his beautiful eyes and I watch as he starts coming too, seeing the rush of blood to this cheeks and that moment when all his muscles go tense and then relax.

He rests down on me as he collapses, chest heaving like he’s done one of those extreme triathlon competitions.  I stare at the ceiling, momentarily stunned that it really happened.  I got what I set out for and now it’s over.  I don’t want to think about what happens next but how can I not?  His cock is softening and beginning to slip out.  In a minute, he’s going to get up and want to go back to the party.  I couldn’t bear an embarrassed goodbye.

I turn to look at his face, wanting to get that final glance of him at peace; like a picture-postcard for the cold nights ahead.  When I do, I find him watching me closely with a slightly bemused, slightly concerned expression on his face.

“You okay?” he asks, stroking my cheek tenderly.

“Fuck yeah.”  I want to keep up the bravado, but it sounds weak.

“Good,” he says, still stroking. I catch a hitch in his breath in the way his chest moves against mine and I wait for him to say something else but he doesn’t.

Here it comes, I think. Here comes the awkward moment and I need to get out of here before it happens.

“I need to use the bathroom,” I say, pushing on his arm slightly.

“Sure,” he says, reaching between us to keep the condom in place while he pulls out. I feel awkward making myself decent but he isn’t watching, he’s lying on the rug staring at the ceiling, cupping his dick as if he’s suddenly shy.  I push up and stumble onto my feet, legs feeling like jelly and my fuffie is about as sore as it’s ever been.  Just putting my legs together is agony.

“Okay,” I say, not wanting to promise I’ll be back when I’ve no intention of returning.

Harrison is quiet and still.

“I’m going to use the bathroom,” I say again, making my way towards the door that’s separating us from the party.  I turn because my heart is beating so fast knowing this is it.  I’m never going to be with Harrison this way again. The thought causes me physical pain; a clenching in my gut and chest.  When I catch Harrison’s eye I see something that looks like regret and my throat burns.  I didn’t want this to hurt him.  I didn’t want to make him feel used.  The whole situation is fucked up.  I’m about to turn and run because I have no words when Harrison smiles at me sadly.

“Bye, princess,” he says.