Chapter 02 - In the Dark
I thought the novelty of sleeping with Jeff would eventually wear off; that after a while we'd move on, find relationships of our own, and go back to being just a girl and her step-brother. I thought that for a long time – but looking back I need to admit one thing: I wanted him more every day. More than that, I wanted him to myself. I was growing tired, almost irritated, with his sister Sarah always having to be in on everything. Sarah liked to take control, to direct, and it was getting on my nerves.
Try as I might to get Jeff alone, Sarah always seemed to know what I was planning. I spent a lot of nights lying awake in our first-floor bedroom, staring into the dark, imagining myself sneaking up the stairs to Jeff's room, waking him up by crawling into bed with him. The thought of our parents catching me upstairs in the middle of the night stopped me for a while – but finally, my wanting him to myself won the battle with my fear and my reason.
I smiled in the dark as the stairway door clicked shut behind me. Sara had turned over in her bed as I left our downstairs room, but only mumbled into her pillow before fading back into dreamland. I'd crept past my parents' room without a sound, even stepped over the cat in the dark without waking her. Now, on the final leg of my upward journey, I paused to suck in a deep breath, my gut spinning with what I was about to do.
It was like a game between Sarah and me, and even though I'd been the first to take Jeff inside me, Sara always wanted to do everything better – even to the point of lecturing me on how Jeff liked it. There was one thing, though, that we'd never done, never even talked about. That one thing was all I could think about as I made my way up the stairs.
I could feel the warm carpet against the palms of my hands as I groped my way up to the first landing. The stairwell smelled old – that kind of thirty-year carpet old that brings to mind old vacuum cleaner bags. I braced myself against the wall in an effort to stop shaking, eased my foot onto the next stair, and winced in the dark as it gave a small creak. There was no way I could explain to my parents what I was doing there at two in the morning, and I was already nineteen – legal to kick out of the house.
I waited – my breath like a hurricane in my ears – for any sound from below. Nothing. I shifted my weight to the edge of the stair and whispered under my breath.
"That was stupid."
With a racing heart I ascended the final flight, two steps at a time, sweaty palms braced against six coats of paint-over-wallpaper. I was in the upper hallway now, just steps from the door to Jeff's room. I waited again, listening to the sounds of that crept through the open window at the other end of the hall: passing cars in the distance, leaves rustling in the breeze, crickets, the imagined sound of my parents breathing one floor down. My own breath seemed like a hurricane on a ratchet, harsh and catching. I wiped my palms against silky-slick cloth of my nightshirt and rested my ear against the door to Jeff's room.
I couldn't hear a thing. I wrapped my hand around the antique knob, braced myself for the squeal of metal on metal, and began to slide back the bolt. The door cracked open with a little smack of paint releasing from paint. I stepped across the threshold, still holding the knob in place, careful to avoid the creaky spot just inside. I shut the door without a sound and stood looking at my soundly sleeping older stepbrother.
He lay on his back, head buried underneath a pillow so that only his mouth and nose were visible. A stab of moonlight broke through a crack in the curtains and slashed across his bare chest. I watched him breathing; let my eyes wander down to the bulge in his Jockey-shorts. He must have been having a great dream by the look of it. My hands began to twist in my nightgown; I could feel the blood rushing to swell and tighten the soft, dampening mound between my legs as I crept to the side of Jeff's bed.
His hardness seemed to grow even more as the soft breeze blew the curtains open, allowing the moonlight to dance across his body. I wanted to slip into bed with him – to wrestle his cock out of his Jockey-shorts and take it into my mouth, to feel the hardness of his chest crush against my breasts – but I didn't want to wake him, not suddenly. I was afraid he'd make a noise and wake our parents.
Every beat of my heart seemed to set off another flurry of butterflies in my belly as I began to unbutton my nightshirt. I let it fall in a pool around my ankles; the rush of the soft material as it fell stood every hair on end. My anticipation mounted as I stood naked, chest heaving, next to that bed. I stepped out of the nightgown, kicked it to one side, closed my eyes and let the warm breeze light up my naked flesh as I stared down at Jeff's sleeping body.
I let my hands run all over my skin, took my nipples between my fingers and tugged them into life. I imagined myself straddling him, feeling his cock brush against the outer lips of my pussy. I imagined his hands kneading my breasts as he took one nipple into his mouth and then the other. I braced my knees against the side of the bed, let my hands travel downward to the soft, wispy curls that covered my sex.
When my finger invaded the tender flesh a little moan escaped my lips. Jeff stirred in his sleep – but his breathing, after agonizing moments, returned to normal. I waited, one finger probing my tender opening, another just flicking the very tip of my clit. I imagined Jeff, waking up to find me here, my pussy spread wide as I brought myself closer and closer to orgasm with my eyes glued to his Jockey-shorts. I was breathing fast, panting, just inches from the edge of a mind-blowing orgasm.
That's when I decided to wake him. I leaned forward, knees trembling – my right hand made a little dent in the sheet near the end of the bed. Slowly, just a fraction at a time, I shifted my weight onto the mattress, careful not to let the springs squeak, careful not to wake Jeff. First one knee, then the other, until finally I was kneeling beside him. My skin seemed to throb and hotflash, screaming to be touched, but I waited. I waited for what seemed like forever, kneeling above his body, my face just inches from his hard cock, my wetness growing with every moment. I listened to the clock ticking. I knew what I wanted to do, but the tension held me like a dream: vise-like.
My eyes ran up and down his body, invading every inch of exposed flesh. I wanted him. I needed to touch him. I inched forward a trembling finger, let it just brush along the hard ridge that strained against his white-cotton underwear. He didn't move. His breathing never missed a beat. Emboldened, I let my finger run back to the base, then forward to the tip again – just back and forth and back and forth. I could feel my pussy twitch with every stroke as his cock began to make a circus tent out of his Jockey-shorts. The little hole in the front began to open up as his flesh pushed forward, growing and growing. I thought my juices world start running down my legs, but my mouth was dry as a bone.
Suddenly, his breathing changed. He shifted his head around in his sleep, threw his arms over the pillow that partially covered his face. I held my breath, waiting, until I was almost ready to black out – I swayed on the bed, regained my balance and sucked air. The sound seemed like a jumbo jet, but if my panic cranked up a notch, so did my arousal. Jeff shifted his hips, and his cock popped through the hole in his Jockey-shorts.
I watched it, pulsing in the moonlight, reading every beat that surged through the roadmap of veins covering the thick shaft. A tiny curl of hair crept out at the base, and a single, clear drop of thickening fluid crowned the swollen purple head as it bobbed in time with his heartbeat.
I stared, mesmerized, at his rigid hard-on. I thought about taking him in my mouth as my hands crept down between my legs as if with a mind of their own. I was kneeling on the edge of my stepbrother's bed, naked, watching his hard, oozing cock as he dreamt of who knows what. My fingers twisted madly between the lips of my pussy, teasing my clit, pinching, tugging, wrenching me closer and closer to orgasm. I could feel it building in the tips of my toes, buzzing in my ears, swelling my nipples to rock-hard peaks of wanton need. I abandoned all reason then. I had to feel him against me.
Inch by inch I crept across the bed like a clandestine lap-dancer in some kind of bizarre dream. A movement, a shift of weight, a pause, a holding of breath, another movement. Somehow, I managed to get into position without waking him. My hands dented into the sheets on either side of his chest, my knees sank into the mattress just above his hips. I watched his breathing, still deep and slow. Looking down, I could see his cock, still throbbing at full-mast. I reached down, stared at his slightly parted lips, longing to run my tongue along their soft, moist wetness. I craved the feel of his tight chest grazing my swollen nipples. I bit my lower lip, tugged it into my mouth to stifle another moan, and sank down until the tip of his cock slipped inside me.
I let the head push into me, but not too far. God, what a feeling – I couldn't stifle the little gasp that burst from my throat as I spread myself open on his cock. I held there, statuesque, imagining his slick pre-cum mingling with the juices that flowed from my pussy like a river. I tried to keep still, but my body was on fire. My hips began to tense and relax; each tiny motion sliding his shaft back and forth, every downward twitch of my hips impaling me deeper. I wanted to grind into him, I wanted to sink my fingernails deep into his chest, but I didn't dare. I just kept up the slow rhythm, fanning the fire in my clit to a raging inferno that seemed to radiate outward and burn every inch of my body.
I became frantic, shuddering and flexing and trying not to wake him, trying to move but not to move. The feel of him barely within me was driving me insane, and I needed more. I paused, watched his breathing, still deep and slow. I let my hips sink lower, felt his swollen purple head slide deep.
"Vera?"
Just a whisper in the moonlight.
"What are you doing?"
