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I watch the rise and fall of her chest that makes the edge of her dark nipple play peek-a-boo with the edge of the sheet.
I wonder what she’s thinking.
My little stepslut has lived up to her nickname. The last two days, Commando and I have done everything under the sun with and to Cheri, and it’s been pure freedom. Stonewall is stillkeeping his distance but is never too far away. Somehow, it doesn’t feel weird.
Even though he’s always been the strong, silent type, I thought he’d cave in by now. Every time Commando and I give Cheri an orgasm, he ends up either heading to his room or to the bathroom to take a shower. We all know he is beating off. I still can’t figure out why he doesn’t just let her take care of that for him.
Commando’s sleeping behind Cheri. His arm is draped over her waist, his fingers on her belly. She’s been so adamant that what happens on the island stays on the island, but let’s face it, unprotected sex this many times? She could be pregnant.
My brain short-circuits at the thought. Not because I could potentially be tied down with a kid, but because every time I think about my future, Cheri is in it. She fills me with a sense of freedom. There’s that word again, but the definition keeps morphing.
I’ve always wanted to live life to the fullest. How can I do that if I don’t pursue all avenues, like being a dad?
Stonewall stirs in his chair, his unflinching gaze landing on Cheri. I’ve noted the way Cheri stares at him while we fuck. She wants him. She never asks. She must sense what we learned years ago: He needs his space.
I shift my hand to Cheri’s pussy and wiggle my finger in her dark curls. “Does my stepslut need breakfast or an orgasm to start the day?”
“I had too much dessert last night, my stomach’s a little off. But option two sounds grand.”
She keeps her eyes on Stonewall. God, she’s a little tease, shifting one leg over my hip to open herself. The sheet falls away and Stonewall’s got the best fucking view in the house. I slide my finger onto her clit, watching her nipples bead and her body shake as I work her into a frenzy.
“You want him to watch that pussy come on my finger.”
“Yes. I’m such a naughty girl. I want to tease him.”
“He may not say it, but he wants you.”
“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to torture him by carrying out sex acts in front of him.”
She’s playing coy. I love it when she does that. I wish it would work; I think Stonewall needs a little Cheri sunshine in his life. Can we break him before we get back on our flights home today?
“He tortures himself,” I answer. “You’re just making it more bearable.”
“Do you think he’s…” Her breaths become more erratic as she tries to speak. “Do you think he wishes his finger was touching me?”
“I know he does.”
“What about his mouth? Do you think he’s ever had his mouth on a pussy before?”
I can’t believe she’s saying these things, but this is why I love my stepslut. Fuck, my hand stills. Love? At least I didn’t say it out loud. I pretend to reposition, although I don’t really change anything, and get back in motion. “He’s been with women.”
“So he just doesn’t like me?”
“I think he likes you too much.” I lower my voice to be sure she’s the only one who can hear it, even though the words I’m speaking are true. That’s why he holds back. He’s afraid to love and lose.
Louder, I say, “He doesn’t have to like you to want to stick his dick in you.”
Her pussy clamps on my finger and her body writhes as she cries out. A sharp tap is distinctly out of place. I split my attention between making sure she’s satisfied and the source of the sound that happens again.
Commando’s still sound asleep. Stonewall hears it though. His head is turned to the sliding glass doors where we’ve failed to close the curtain.
“Oh shit, cover her,” he says, jumping up, hurriedly making his way to the patio door. Cheri slaps her leg down, squeezing around my hand. Not sure if that’s because of the orgasm or the distraction.
Commando wasn’t asleep after all. He makes quick work of positioning the sheet over Cheri. I leave my hand in place, wanting to make sure she gets her full finish, as I angle my head to look over my shoulder.
Fuck. Dad’s standing on the dune outside of our deck.
“Stay down,” I say to Cheri.
