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Piper
My mind isin a state of euphoric shock. I can’t believe that I just had sex with Matthew Pierce. My pussy feels sore, but good. It’s still tingling after the rough pounding from his meaty cock and I lay beside him, reveling in these amazing sensations. I’ve not felt so good in such a long time and I’m so afraid it’s going to end, that he’s going to push me away now that he’s gotten what he wanted.
To my surprise, he stays beside me, holding me against his chest in a delicate manner that’s so unlike the way he just fucked me. I’m not sure what it means, if he wants to be with me or if he’s still coming down after what seemed to be one hell of an orgasm. I briefly consider asking him, but I don’t want to spoil the moment. I want this night to last forever, to never fade away.
When he finally shifts, my heart freezes. This is it, I tell myself, he’s going to climb out of bed and go get in his own. He’ll probably never look at me again and I’ll be left wanting, needing. I thought I could use him for a quick lay, but the truth is, I want something more. I want to be his woman.
My fear is irrational. At least for now. He just adjusts so that he can look at my face. I’m not sure, but I see something tender in his gaze, but also a bit of confusion. “What’s wrong?” I ask, my voice sounding far more timid than I’d like.
He smiles, reaching up to brush his fingers through my hair. “Nothing,” is all he says at first. He just keeps staring at me, like he can’t bear to look away. It makes me blush, which causes him to grin. “I never forgot how pretty you are,” he tells me, his tone almost wistful.
My blush only deepens. “Stop it, you’re just saying that…”
“But I’m not,” he insists, leaning in to kiss the end of my nose. “You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever met, Piper.” He kisses my lips, saving me from having to think up something intelligent to say. He surprised me again, first by not leaving and second by complimenting me. Does he maybe have feelings for me too? Or am I just imagining things?
He pulls away just a little bit. “I have to say. I’m a little curious about something though.” I can still feel his breath on my mouth. “Why did you stop dancing? I remember seeing you at school functions, you were great.”
That’s the last thing I expected him to ask and it takes me a few minutes to formulate a proper response. At first I consider shrugging it off like I did at dinner, but he seems to genuinely want to know. Lucky for him I’m still floating up on a cloud or else I would never consider telling me no matter how much he begged. I’ve never told the truth to anybody, but Matthew is the one person I’ve always been comfortable telling secrets to, he’s the one person I want to bear my soul to.
“The truth?” I have to make sure he really wants to know before I divulge my biggest secret.
“Of course,” he answers gently.
I bite my lip, taking my time to find the words. “My mother made me start ballet when I was little,” that seems like a fine place to start. “When I started high school I wanted to do something I was more interested in, but my mother got really angry with me. She said it wasn’t appropriate for young ladies and insisted that I continue ballet.” I remember just how furious she was when I told her I wanted to take shop and learn to fix cars like my Dad. I’d seen her get angry before, but in that moment she was more pissed off than I’ve ever seen her, even to this day. “When she left, I could have done anything I wanted, but a part of me really hoped that if I danced well she might be proud of me and come home…”
It sounds ridiculous, but it’s exactly how I felt. I was always so disappointed when she never showed up to my recitals or performances. Now it’s been years since I’ve seen her (she does send me gifts for Christmas and my birthday) and though I don’t miss having her around telling me how to live my life and what to wear and what to say, I do wish she could have been a better parent. Of course if she had been, my father wouldn’t have found Vanessa and he’s been happier with her than he ever was with my nightmare of a mother.
Matthew startles me out of my thoughts as he pulls me closer, kissing my cheek. I rub his back, grateful for the unspoken comfort. I had no idea that he was so cuddly, but I’m definitely loving every second of it.
“Well,” he says after a few minutes of silence, “aren’t you going to tell me what it was? The thing you wanted to do instead of dance?”
“Oh,” I hesitate again, this time turning red. “It’s silly.”
He props himself up on his elbow, seeming even more interested than before. “I’m sure it’s not. Tell me. I really want to know.”
I chew on my bottom lip, still not quite sure. “You promise you won’t make fun of me?”
He brushes his lips against my cheek and neck, trailing soft kisses over my skin. “I promise, just tell me.”
Knowing I can’t hold out any longer, I finally confess. “I wanted to go to shop class so I could learn to be a mechanic like my Dad…” I pause, “that’s stupid isn’t it?”
“No!” He answers quickly, his mouth close to my ear. “Piper that’s not stupid at all. In fact,” he moves so he can kiss my lips. “I think it’s great. If you still want that, you can have it. Your Dad would let you work at the shop, hell he’d even teach you the way he taught me. Or,” he gives me a gentle squeeze, “I could teach you, too…”
This was not the response I expected. Is he really encouraging me to do this? I really thought that he wouldn’t understand, that he’d be like my mother and tell me I was dumb. But offering to teach me, supporting me, is the best reaction he could have had. Could it be that Matthew really does care about me?
In an effort to show my appreciation I take him by surprise, rolling him onto his back and straddling his waist before he can stop me or even protest. “That’s enough talking,” I declare huskily, “time to earn your keep, stud.” I press my lips against his mouth, firmly grinding my bare pussy against him. I can already feel his cock stirring, belying his eagerness to fuck me again. I’m glad he’s not too warn out for a second round, because I’m nowhere near done with him!
Needless to say we barely get any sleep all night. The next morning I’m sore and tired, but I’ve never felt so alive. Or so horny. Even after all the fucking we did during the night, I’m hungry for more, longing to feel Matthew stretch my pussy with his hung dick. Somehow, despite all the overpowering lust between us, we manage to make it into the shower. Of course, that’s as far as our self control gets us.
While he has me pushed up against the wall, unwittingly living out my fantasy from yesterday morning, I don’t consider at all how wrong it is that I’m fucking my stepbrother. Or that he’s invaded by greedy womanhood over half a dozen times since last night. All I can think about is how good and right it feels, how lucky I am to experience this euphoria of completion. Like part of my soul was missing until Matthew held me in his arms.
The shame didn’t set in until we were faced with our parents over breakfast. It was hard to look either of them in the eye, but deep down, no matter what happens, I know the night was worth it. Even if it doesn’t last, even if it causes nothing but problems. We needed each other. Truth be told, I still need him, but I’m afraid to think that maybe he’s done, that he got everything he wanted and he no longer has a use for me.
This nagging fear stays in the back of my mind all day, whispering and mocking every time he smiles or laughs with me. “He’s faking because Dad and Vanessa are right here,” he tells me cruelly, “he got what he wanted, don’t expect anything else.” I try to shake it off and enjoy our hike, for the most part I’m successful, but it never fully goes away.
At least, not until just after lunch when I slip off to change out of my socks that got wet trudging through the snow. Matthew catches up to me when we’re both out of sight and puts his arm around me, grinning from ear to ear. His cheeks and nose are rosy from the cold, making him look so adorable.
“Thought I’d tag along so we can maybe sneak a quickie,” he whispers in my ear.
