"Hey Needledick, you get any pussy last night?"
God I hated that little bitch.
The little bitch being my younger step sister. My mom was long gone and my dad had gotten remarried the year before. It hadn't been an easy transition as you can probably tell. The floozy that my dad had married was nice enough, if a little dense, but she made my dad happy, so I guess that's all that mattered. Her daughter on the other hand was intolerable. The two of us couldn't be more different. I am tall, around 6'2, I've run track since my freshman year of high school, and am a regular fixture at the gym, though I really consider myself to be more a nerd than a jock. I've always been kinda shy. I wear thick black framed glasses that are usually covered by the blond hair that hangs just about eye level and have always preferred comic books and sci fi movies to football games. Jenna on the other hand was an unapologetic slut. Forward and abrasive with everyone she encountered. you wouldn't have thought that someone so small would be so bold. Jenna was only about 5'2 with dyed black hair that she wore to her shoulders with sharply cut bags right above her eyes. She had a killer body, big full c-cup tits that she certainly didn't mind showing off, always wearing low cut shirts, and great legs that while short were perfectly formed and led up to a perfect little ass that I had spent many shameful nights thinking about alone in my room. Her big brown doe eyes made her look as if she was as sweet and innocent as a kitten, but the reality was quite the opposite. She was always sneaking weird guys into her room. Guys with piercings and tattoos, quite the opposite of myself, and even though I never ratted her out to her mother, she always seemed to have it in for me.
"Hey Needledick, I'm talking to you" she said coyly, crossing those great little legs. The heels of her big black boot clanked on the floor and her short denim skirt seemed to ride up a bit. She was wearing a tight black v neck top that was showing off a good amount of cleavage. She shot me a sly teasing smile as she puffed her cigarette and continued to stare me down.
Its too early for this, I thought to myself and tried to make my way past her sitting at the kitchen table to make myself a cup of coffee.
"Fuck off Jenna." I said, trying to act tough, but finding my eyes lingering a little too long on her breasts. Her tits were lightly peppered with freckles, a fact that most guys probably missed, but through careful study, I grew to know them well. She only laughed at me, making me feel even more embarrassed and angry.
Puffing her cigarette she told me through the smoke. "Don't worry needledick, I know you wouldn't be able to get that little thing fucked in a whorehouse." She found this to be uproariously funny and giggled loudly while staring at my crotch.
I was turning red with embarrassment and anger. For some reason, today she was getting me more angry than normal, it was probably because I almost HAD gotten laid the night before. I had been on a date with Cindy Merkins, a cute little blond from the track team. She was nice and funny, but a little uptight. We kissed and made out for a while and she stroked my cock through my jeans for at least a half an hour, but left me without cumming because she had to get home before curfew.
"Don't you have anything better to do with your time than harass me?" I asked her angrily.
"How did it go with Cindy last night? Did you let her deep throat both inches? Or just the one?" Jenna seemed to find this hilarious "or wait... I guess that would be called deep mouthing huh?" She laughed as if this was the funniest thing in the world, while I turned an even deeper shade of red.
"Actually, did she even know she was blowing you? Or did she mistake you for a toothpick? Better check your cockhead for left over broccoli bro."
I'm not sure what came over me, but I was so sick of her bullshit that I couldn't take it anymore.
"You know, I guess my dick would seem small to a slut like you. After all, that septic tank you call a cunt has probably been fucked wider than the Holland Tunnel." I was shouting, without realizing what I was doing, I had stepped up only inches away from her seated at the kitchen table, staring down at her, and shouting into her big brown doe eyes, and for the first time ever, seeing a shimmer of vulnerability.
"You.... You can't fucking talk to me like that!" she protested, standing up from her seat, and almost slipping on large heels of her boots. She shoved me as hard as she could, but at her height, it was more of a punch to the stomach that doubled me over a little, as the wind pushed out of me.