Alex's heart hammered so fiercely it seemed ready to burst through his ribcage as he lingered just outside Laura's slightly ajar door. Inside, the room was a dim sanctuary, lit only by the flickering light of her laptop screen illuminating her face in a ghostly glow.
She was stretched out on her bed, headphones cocooning her ears, one hand slipping beneath the hem of her tiny sleep shorts, moving slowly and deliberately. The fabric shifted with each steady motion, taut against her skin. Her lips parted softly, releasing faint, breathless sounds that barely escaped her.
The screen before her revealed exactly what Alex had feared: explicit images flashing in rhythm with her movements, unmistakable and electric. A shiver trembled through her slender frame as she arched her back, hips rolling in small, urgent circles, the rawness of her need laid bare in that private moment.
A low, desperate moan floated from her throat, and Alex's body betrayed him instantly, his arousal straining painfully against the confines of his jeans.
She’s your stepsister! the voice of reason whispered, fragile against the thunderous pounding of his blood.
Logic screamed at him to retreat, to vanish from this forbidden scene, yet his feet remained frozen, eyes glued to the slick shimmer between her thighs as her fingers quickened their pace.
Her body convulsed softly, a trembling wave rippling through her as she reached her climax, the helpless cry that escaped her lips sending a jolt straight through Alex’s core.
Silently, he slipped back, each step careful and quiet, his erection pulsing with an ache that burned beneath his skin. His mind was a battleground of guilt and desire.
Shower. Now.
The cold tiles bit into his feet as he stepped under the steaming cascade of water, the heat enveloping him in a fog of steam that blurred the edges of his thoughts. One hand braced against the slick wall, the other wrapped possessively around his hardness, stroking in harsh, punishing rhythms.
Images of Laura haunted him—her parted lips, the cling of fabric soaked with her essence, the ghost of her scent lingering in his mind like a cruel tease.
But she’s your stepsister, his conscience hissed louder this time, the words sharper, more insistent.
His body rebelled, countering with a raw, snarling voice in his head: Enough with the excuses. She’s just a step on paper. You could drown yourself in that hunger right now, and no one would have a say. She was desperate for touch—your touch.
The fantasy spiraled out of control, building an irresistible, forbidden scene that made his strokes faster, more frantic.
He pictured himself flinging the door open, catching her in the act. Her eyes would widen in shock before darkening with that reckless fire he’d glimpsed before, the same heat that burned between them like a secret flame.
"Alex?" she’d breathe, hand still buried, fingers glistening with her need. But she wouldn’t stop; instead, she’d slow just enough to tease, locking her gaze with his. "You were watching me, weren’t you? Perv."
He’d step inside, the door clicking shut behind him. “Couldn’t help it,” he’d mutter hoarsely, voice thick with want, his cock straining against his jeans. “You looked so goddamn good.”
Her fingers would slip free, slick and inviting. “Show me what you want,” she’d whisper, beckoning him closer.
In his mind’s eye, he’d cross the room with a predator’s grace, grabbing her ankles and pulling her to the edge of the bed. Her shorts would tear away in one swift motion, exposing the glistening petals of her desire—so pink, so swollen—begging for him.
“Stepsister,” he’d growl, the word both a curse and a promise as he dropped to his knees, burying his face between her thighs. His tongue would lap eagerly at her clit, tasting salt and sweetness, fingers tangled in her hair as her hands gripped his scalp, moaning his name like a prayer.
“Oh God, Alex—don’t stop. This is so wrong...”
But wrong never felt so right.
He’d rise, positioning himself at her entrance, teasing the swollen head against her folds. “Tell me you want it,” he’d demand, voice low and rough.
She’d arch, desperate, breath hitching. “I want it. Fuck me, stepbrother. Hard.”
And he’d plunge deep on the first stroke, claiming her completely, her walls gripping him tight and hot, pulling him deeper into the forbidden embrace.
“Fuck me, stepbrother,” she’d whisper, nails raking down his back as he pounded relentlessly. The bed would creak beneath their rhythms, her breasts bouncing with every thrust.
“This pussy’s mine now,” he’d growl, one hand pinning her wrists above her head, the other teasing her nipple until she cried out in exquisite torment.
Her legs would wrap around his waist, heels digging into him, urging him faster, closer.
“Come inside me,” she’d beg, voice breaking, “Fill your stepsister up.”
He would, exploding deep as waves of release tore through them both, her screams echoing his name in the dark silence.
Alex’s hand quickened beneath the hot water, his breath ragged and uneven. The pounding spray masked the desperate sounds of his release as he lost himself in the forbidden fantasy.
A sudden sharp knock shattered the spell. “Alex!” Laura’s impatient voice cut through the bathroom door. “I need to go to Jess’s. Out.”
He froze, water dribbling down his chest, hand halted mid-stroke. “What?” he managed, voice tight.
“I said, get out! My friends are waiting, and I need the bathroom now. You’ve been in there forever—what the hell are you even doing? Come on, open up!”
“Five more minutes?” he snapped, trying in vain to tame the intense throbbing beneath the towel he hastily grabbed.
“No! They’re texting me right now. Come out! You’ve been in there way too long. Are you listening?”
She was right. Time had slipped away unnoticed, his haze interrupted by her relentless banging and demands. His cock still pulsed painfully, the ache of denial sharp.
Wrapping a towel low around his hips, the fabric tenting obscenely, he took a deep breath and yanked the door open.
Laura stood there, casual but provocative in a cropped tank and denim cutoffs, arms crossed beneath her chest, pushing her curves into sharp relief. Her messy bun tossed carelessly, a few stray strands framing her face.
“Look, you made me wait forever—” she began, gaze dropping to the towel’s shape. “Hey, what’s that?” Her eyes narrowed suspiciously.
Alex shifted awkwardly. “What?”
“That bulge. What are you hiding in your towel? Is it something of mine?”
“Nothing,” he muttered, heat flooding his cheeks.
“Come on, don’t lie. Is that my shampoo bottle? Are you trying to sabotage me after interrupting my bath?”
“What? No! Why would I do that?”
“For revenge! I had to wait forever, and now you’re messing with me. Give it back.”
“I swear, I didn’t take anything. You’re just being paranoid.”
Laura’s smirk was a challenge. Before he could react, she lunged, yanking the towel away.
It slipped to the floor with a soft thud.
His cock sprang free, thick and flushed, a bead of precome glistening at the tip in the harsh bathroom light. Every vein, every inch was exposed, throbbing painfully in the cold air.
Laura froze, mouth forming a perfect circle, eyes wide and pupils dilated as she stared.
Alex was just as stunned, rooted in place, face burning bright red.
Seconds stretched into an unbearable eternity before her hand lifted slowly, trembling, reaching toward him, fingers inching closer as if drawn by some magnetic force.
Before her fingertips brushed his sensitive skin, Alex shouted, “Sister!”
The word snapped her back to reality. She blinked, yanked her hand away like it’d scorched her, cheeks flaming vivid crimson.
She snatched the towel from the floor, flung it at his chest, and bolted back into the bathroom, the door slamming so hard the frame rattled.
Alex stood dripping, cock bobbing wildly in the open air, furious and aching from the sudden denial.
Why, dude? Why the hell? his mind screamed.
Nearly an hour later, Alex lay sprawled across his bed, phone in hand, mindlessly scrolling through the endless stream of memes and vacation photos. Nothing stuck. His thoughts kept drifting back to that moment—the wide eyes, the quivering hand, the almost-touch that had haunted his senses.
Uncomfortable, he adjusted his sweatpants as an unwelcome stirring pulsed through his body again.
The door burst open without warning. Laura stormed in, transformed. Her tight black mini-dress clung to every curve, the hem riding high on her toned thighs. Black heels clicked sharply on the hardwood, hair cascading in wild waves over her shoulders. She looked like trouble incarnate.
“Alex, listen,” she said, hands planted firmly on her hips.
He jumped upright, heart skipping. “Can you knock? What if I was changing?”
She rolled her eyes. “Shut up. I’ve got bigger problems than your privacy. Listen—I need your help. Jess’s older sister bailed last minute on driving us to the party. None of us can drive, so you’re driving me to pick up my friends and then to the party.”
Alex leaned back, amusement curling his lips. “No.”
Her foot tapped impatiently, eyes blazing. “You mother—never mind. I already told everyone you’re stepping up to help. It’s my reputation on the line. Flake, and I look like a liar. Now get up.”
“Why should I care about your reputation?” he shot back, arms crossed.
She stepped closer, voice dipping into that bossy tone that both infuriated and enticed him. “Because I say so. Because we’re family now. Get moving before I drag you.”
He smirked, “Should I call Lina? Bet she’d love to hear about this late-night party and the friends you’re keeping secret.”
Her face snapped into a furious sneer. “I’ll kill you in your sleep. Slowly. Pillow over your smug face.”
“Not exactly how someone asks a favor,” he teased.
She fought for control, then softened slightly, eyes still sparking. “Alright, dear brother, can you please drive me and my friends to the party? Pretty please? I’d really appreciate it.”
He tilted his head, enjoying this moment. “Can you kneel while saying that? Show some sincerity.”
Her jaw dropped. “Don’t push it.”
He rolled over, facing the wall. “Then I’m going to sleep. Good night, sister.”
Silence held for a heartbeat, then the soft thud of knees hitting the floor.
Alex turned, breath hitching. Laura knelt beside his bed, palms flat on her thighs, neckline dipping low enough to reveal a tempting glimpse of cleavage—the same breasts that haunted him since movie night.
“It’s okay, sister,” he said quickly, sitting up before things got weird.
“Let’s go,” she said simply, voice steady but eyes flickering with unspoken challenges. “But you owe me. A big one.”
She jumped up, grinning triumphantly, dusting off her knees. “I’ll be ready in five—maybe ten. Hurry yourself.”
She moved to the door, then spun back with a sly smile. “And dress properly. Don’t embarrass me. Oh, and try not to talk to my friends—you have zero manners. All that protein in your diet must go straight to your dick and not your brain.”
Alex’s eyes widened. “What did you just say?”
“Nothing!” she shot back, flashing a wicked grin before slipping out.
He stared at the closed door, mind racing. Should I even help this infuriating bitch? The complicated mess of desire and resentment tangled tighter than ever.