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“I’m going out with a friend,” she says in a suspicious tone. “I have a life, you know?” Yeah, right. According to my father, Kim’s just a few years away from turning into a workaholic. Alright, these weren’t his exact words, but that’s what I understood.
“Look at your stepsister, hardworking and responsible; you should try and learn from her”, my old man told me just a few weeks ago, disappointment in his voice.
Yeah, the way I live my life doesn’t exactly make him proud. I drink hard and I party hard (well, I fuck hard too), and that’s pretty much all I do. Sure, I amassed some money in the few investments I made during the years, but that doesn’t exactly make me a paragon of virtue. Besides, I’ve pretty much squandered most of my money by now; partying hard every single night takes a toll on both your liver and wallet.
“Look at you,” I tell her in a mocking tone, grinning, “such a big girl, going on dates already.” Her cheeks become flushed, so that’s really what she’s up to; she’s going on a date.
But it’s a bit weird, don’t you think? She just got to the Hamptons a few hours ago, and she’s already going on a date. With whom?
She takes a look at her tiny silvery wrist watch, and frowns. She must be running late already. “Well, don’t destroy the house while I’m not around,” she tells me flatly, regaining her composure, and then turns to leave.
“Wait,” I call after her, sitting up again. “Where are you going to? In case... “ Fuck, why am I even asking her this? “In case I need you.”
“I’m going to the Elephant Bar, but why would you need me, Cody?”
“Just in case I burn down the house,” I wink at her. I reach for my sunglasses, put them on and lay back. She just shakes her head in exasperation and finally leaves; I follow her with my eyes, unable to stop from staring at her ass. I could do so much than just stare...
When she’s finally out of sight and I hear the entrance door closing, I shut my eyes and try to push her to the back of my mind. But I can’t; she’s going on a date while I’m just lying here, and I don’t like that at all.
Why? Don’t ask me, because I have no idea. No, don’t
start thinking that I hate the idea of her being with a man. She’s my stepsister, why would I even care about shit like that?
I’m just worried. She’s family after all, and you’re supposed to look after family. In the end, though, my thoughts sound like a lie; this isn’t just regular worry. There’s something else too, and I’m betting it has something to do with the way my cock is throbbing right now.
I told you: my twelve-inches can’t be tamed.
Kim
“It’s not a job for everyone, you know? You’ve got to be tough and smart… Just like me,” John says, and I nod quietly. He’s been going on and on about his job at Wall Street for what feels like an eternity. I’ve pretty much turned my brain off when he told me for the third time how special he was for working in finance. I get it, Mr. Important, you work in a suit all day, good for you.
“Tough and smart,” I repeat after him, and he just gives me a proud smirk. He really believes what he’s saying. It’s not just bragging or trying to look cool; he’s truly deluded.
He seemed like someone fun to meet, but I’m starting to regret saying yes to this train-wreck of a date. Even the pictures that Facebook removed that say “Attachment Unavailable” in my Dirty Lil’ Angels group are more interesting than he is.
To be honest, regret started bubbling up inside of me by the time he ordered his fifth beer. Then he drank a few more and switched gears, hammering down a shot of whisky for each beer he ordered. The man’s on a rampage.
Now that he’s starting to slur his speech, I’m just looking for an easy way out. I’ve been here with him for three hours, so I think now’s the right time for me to make up some lame excuse and get out of Dodge. I left my brother alone at home, and the house might be on fire by now, I think of saying, but then settle for something tamer.
“John, I had fun today--” I start, but he cuts me off in a heartbeat.
“So, have I,” he whispers, drawing out his words as he places one hand over my right knee. Whoa, calm down, cowboy.
“It’s getting late and--”
“Yeah, it’s getting late… We should get out of here,” he whispers, leaning into me. I feel the alcohol in his breath, and now I’m more than sure that John’s never going to have a chance with me. No, my legs are going to remain shut for you, Mr. Finance. Alcohol might be a lubricant, but it sure as hell ain’t deodorant.
I need to get laid, yeah, but I’m not desperate enough to do it with a walking beer keg. It’s sad how many people think they suddenly become cool after having a few drinks, or more than a few, in John’s case. Not everyone can be like Cody.
From what I’ve heard back in New York, my stepbrother can drink his own weight in whisky and still keep standing as straight as a soldier in formation. And, although he’s arrogant and annoying, I have to admit that there’s a certain appeal about him.
I wish I had never come here to this bar. I should’ve stayed home and got to know Cody better; I know that he’s my stepbrother, but that’s exactly why I should spend time with him. He’s family, right? Maybe I was too harsh on him. I know all the Manhattan stories—who doesn’t—but do I really know him? No, and that’s because I haven’t given him a chance.
But that’s going to change.
I’m going to leave right now and head home.
“John, I have to go. I enjoyed myself, but I must go home now,” I tell him, and he narrows his eyes slightly. This is going to be harder than I thought; I hope I don’t have to spell it out for him.
