Stepped: Part 2
The Christmas season was a holy time and Mason spent it like a monk. He was not religious, but spiteful--he had not forgiven his step-sister for inspiring his lust. For the last two weeks, he'd endured nightly erotic theater. But while Jessica whimpered and moaned her way to sleep in the neighboring room, Mason refused himself relief. Jessica had already taken over everything. His house, his family, his
life
. They were all smeared with reminders of her presence. She could not have his body, too. He was determined to hold out for the remaining week of winter vacation. He could not let her win.
Mason eased his frustration by chopping wood. Something about the methodical violence calmed his mind and body alike. He'd stacked half a quart just this afternoon. Afterward, he took a sanguine shower and crossed the hall to his room.
He stopped dead in the doorway.
His furniture had all been re-arranged. His bookshelf took the place of his desk and his bed now sat in the corner. A strip of wallpaper drooped from the wall where his headboard had been. It revealed a perfectly circular hole. Mason pursed his lips. It certainly explained why he could hear her so well at night. Just as he knelt to plug the hole, something moved on the other side. In Jessica's room.
His step-sister stood by her window. She worked her fingers down her blouse buttons, slowly revealing inches of white flesh. Mason could not see her face, but that she shrugged off her shirt with deliberate slowness told him she knew he was watching.
Mason rapidly re-conceptualized the past few days. Jessica seemed to find excuses to touch him, or else brush by him by accident. She'd even flashed him once or twice. Was all of this on purpose? Was she
trying
to drive him crazy? He flushed with anger, but also with a different kind of heat. There seemed to be no end to her quest to make him miserable in his own home.
And yet he could not look away.
Jessica wore a hot pink bra She gave a shake; the tops of her breasts wobbled like Jell-O. She shimmied out of her jeans and gyrated her pert backside for Mason's viewing pleasure. She ran her hands all over her body, arching her back with a gymnast's sensual grace. Mason's open-mouthed stare moved down her taut stomach and kissed the panties between her legs. There was a wet spot there. She stepped out of sight.
Then--
Ooh.
Mason shifted so he could see her again. It was a splendid scene: there she was, his step-sister, sprawled across the bed. Eyes closed. A hand down her panties. Breathy, broken moans. A soft squishing.
Mason groaned. He'd spent so long nurturing his discipline. And yet here it splintered as if he hadn't even tried. His cock reached full hardness in seconds.
Ohhhh. Fuck me.
He realized he'd started humping the wall. His cock wept. All of his pent-up energy could have burst out of him at that very moment.
