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She gives me an inch, but I need more. I need to taste her sweet pussy. I plant kisses on her knee, on the top of her thigh, inside her thigh, and then I wrap my hands behind her butt so I can scoot her forward. I’ve gotta get that sweet sex as close to the edge of the stool as possible.
She shifts—more eagerly than I anticipated. I almost nut on the spot. My athletic pants are no match for my erection. And as much as I can’t wait to lick her into euphoria, I want to bend her over this counter and fuck her right here. Make her orgasm on my cock. Have her scream my name while my brothers make cider.
That’s how it should be. One of us takes care of her sexually while the other two tend to any other needs. They could cook, clean, tell her a funny story. I don’t fucking care. Anything that makes her happy while my dick stretches her virgin walls while I fill her with my seed.
I pull myself back from the raging fantasy I’ve held onto since the day she turned eighteen.
Knowing my brothers are bound to catch on soon, I kiss my way to her sex. I don’t make any bones about what I’m going to do. She doesn’t push back. In fact, one of her hands rakes through my hair while I nuzzle my lips and nose against her curls.
My sweet stepsister is so wet. So wantonly wet. I’m coating myself in her scent. We belong together, and I don’t want this moment to end.
I think of the saying, ‘A watched pot never boils’, and I hope that somebody in this room is watching that pot of apple cider. I don’t ever want it to boil. I don’t want anything to change what I have with Maggie at this moment…before I have to share her with our brothers.
Is it rational to think I would stay on my knees between her legs the rest of my life if she’d let me? I would if it would make up for me being a jackass.
I would ruin her with orgasms. And so I start.
Teasing my tongue into her curls, I slide it between her plump pussy lips. I rub a hand over my cock to relieve some strain then quickly return it to her ass cheek so I can hold her face against me. Several passes over her clit, with varying licks, sucks, and circles, reveal what she likes best.
When I settle into her favorite combination of sucking and licking, her breaths become noticeable.
“Hey, anybody see where James went?” Heath says.
“No,” Maggie answers too quickly. Her fingers tighten in my hair.
“He must have…” Maggie tries to answer but a gasp intertwines with a moan—an unmistakably divine sound coming from a woman.
Our secret’s out.
Heath surprises me by being the first to comment, “Wait…is James…”
“Stay over there.” Maggie’s swollen clit is my playground. She can’t contain her arousal from any of us.
Ford laughs out loud. “Damn. He’s eating your pussy.”
“Nothing’s happening.” The pitch of Maggie’s voice humors me.
“Don’t be silly, Ford. Of course, James isn’t eating her pussy. She’s sitting right here where we could catch them. That only happens in porn.” His overly done, matter-of-fact-tone is almost enough to crack me up.
“Let’s not discuss this.” Her fingers tighten.
“You won’t mind if I take a look, then?” Ford says.
Working her into a frenzy, I barely give her breathing room to answer.
“No. Stay there,” she says.
“What will you give me to stay over here?”
“What do you want?” She moans the second the question is out of her mouth.
“Maybe we could swap presents later?”
“Fine.” She can’t hold her moans back anymore. The only sad thing about giving her an orgasm is that our little ruse will come to an end. Having taken her to the edge, I let up.
Ford says, “But I didn’t wrap your gift yet. Do you happen to have a box and paper?”
“In the living room, but the only present I have for you is for the swap at Mom and Dad’s house.”
