: The Day In The Kitchen

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He stood in front of me, simply staring at my nearly naked body. His eyes raked over me, lingering on my breasts and panties. Even though I didn't know the slightest thing about my step brother, I felt my expensive panties grow very wet as I sat on the kitchen counter. He moved closer to me, placing each hand on my knees and spread them wide.

My breathing increased, growing labored and heavy. He was less than a foot away from me now. I had no idea what he was going to do; he was a mystery to me.

He brought his lips to my throat, using his hands to angle my neck so that he got better access. His lips were soft at first, warm like hot water. His hands moved up my legs slowly, sending shivers over my skin.

I should stop this. This wasn't right. Where was my morality? Where was my common sense? It was idiocy to continue this charade. I didn't know the first thing about him - even his name. And he didn't know anything about me.

His fingers skimmed over the front of my panties and I gasped. All rational thought dissolved and I was no longer able to think coherently.

I heard him chuckle softly. "How is it that you can be wet in so little time?" he asked, his voice low, sending another shiver through me. My panties became even wetter than they already were. He skimmed his lips down my throat and chest, stopping just over my bra. His fingers still continued to move softly over my core, lighter than a moth's wings. He then quickly removed my bra, undoing the back easily.

This shouldn't be happening, I told myself. It was wrong. But I couldn't bring myself to stop. A slow ache began between my legs, spreading throughout my body. My entire body was tense, waiting for his next move. The heat from his hand scorched my skin, making it nearly impossible to think.

He ran his thumb slowly over the silky fabric of my panties, and more moisture seeped from my pussy. I bit my lip, body taunt as a wire. His eyes stared into mine deeply, never wavering. The intensity made my stomach quake with awe and anticipation. Those green eyes weren't afraid of what we about to do, weren't afraid of me or anything else. His left hand slowly inched up my thigh towards my already dripping cunt.

I was trembling with the power of the battle raging inside me. This wasn't right. It wasn't moral. It was completely unethical and I was going to hell for it. Normal people didn't make this kind of agreement. No one agreed to have sex for medication. The simplicity of the situation surprised me. It sounded so . . . bad. But I would have been lying if I said that I didn't want this. I looked down at his hands, focusing on anywhere but those eyes that looked straight into my soul, glimpsing every sin I'd ever committed.

Suddenly, his fingers slipped into the hem of my panties and grazed across my hairless lips. My eyes closed and I stifled my gasp by biting my lip. I wondered what he thought about the fact that I had recently gotten a Brazilian wax. It had hurt like hell, but I couldn't regret the decision at a time like this.

Ohmygodthatfeltsofuckinggood.

My thoughts were a jumbled mush as he plunged one finger deep inside my hot, aching pussy. I screamed out loud, my hips bucking off the table into his hand.

"Fuck," I heard him growl.

Then he pulled out of me and I groaned at his absence. I was practically wild with need; there was something about him that made me writhe with desire and want.

"Look at me, you little tease," he commanded harshly.

Why did those words turn me on so much? Shouldn't it make me pull away that he used that tone and called me that? No rules of regular relationships applied here. His curt words only made me readier and wetter for him.

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