Boned: A Stepbrother Romance (Mandarin Connection Book 4) Page 2

But not bears.

  They are lithe, trim and athletic.

  They move and walk around with smooth, economical motions. Even Karl, who’s definitely the wildest of the three of them.

  Om’s cool, too, but he’s got the Elder Statesman / CEO thing down pat.

  It’s funny, because ever since Moms landed him, he might as well be blind to other women. The gals in his circle walk right up to him, flashing their cleavage, trying to rub against him.

  It’s funny to watch.

  Om just moves a tiny bit, and they are clawing air.

  He smiles, and is polite, and full of good humor and might even say something scandalous and flirty.

  But, then they see his face and his eyes when he’s watching Moms. They know right then, they’ve got absolutely no chance in the world.

  Sigh.

  It must be wonderful to be that much in love, right?

  Gag me with a spoon.

  I love them both dearly, but I can only take so much until I have to go powder my nose.

  Or gaze on The Mighty Bone.

  Oh, I forgot to mention that Bone got his nickname, “Bone”, from that cover piece.

  —————

  I guess my one-sided love affair with Bone goes back a while.

  We’ve always had fun spending time together, and when he first started showing up at dinner with Om and Moms, I kind of ignored him.

  He was a brat, always teasing me. He had a pretty full schedule, what with competing for a position on the Olympic Dive Team. He spent hours a day, just swimming, or doing cross-country runs, or lifting weights.

  His muscles made him sink in the water, but he was so powerfully built he overcame that disadvantage easily.

  Bone made me feel safe, when he was around, and even when he had brought other girls over for a party or dinner, he was always respectful to them.

  I wish I could say he was as nice to me, but he always was trying to prank me. One time, he walked by my room with a kielbasa sticking out of the fly of his jeans, and for a moment I thought he was seriously trying to make me look at his dong. Then, he started laughing and told me the look on my face was priceless.

  I got him back, though. I waited until he fell asleep one evening, and put the same kielbasa on the pillow next to his face, then took an InstaChat and put it up on my wall.

  When he woke up the next morning, there were thousands of followers making comments about how nice it was that he had finally embraced his inner self.

  Bone was furious, and wouldn’t speak to me for a week.

  Then, he got me back by photoshopping pancakes over a picture of me at the beach, in all the right places.

  He put it up on his LinkFace wall, along with the caption “Butterface”.

  At first, I thought it said “Buttface”, but then I felt even worse when I realized he made it sound like I was hideous.

  It’s the old joke, she’s a perfect ten everywhere but-her-face!

  I cried for an hour, and then Bone saw me, and felt bad and took it down and apologized.

  I forgave him, and we declared a temporary truce.

  That asshole.

  —————

  My obsession with Bone grew as we both continued going to college, and every time we’d get together at Om’s place, or travel together, we’d have these long conversations.

  It felt as though he was delving into my soul, taking in every word, and really listening to my hopes and fears.

  We shared a lot of intimate details. He told me he was upset because a girl he liked ended up with this real douche on his team.

  I was crushed, hurt by the thought of his having strong feelings for another woman, but after all, what else could we do?

  We were steps…

  I confided in him my fear of small, yappy dogs, (I just knew they would tear my tender flesh with their tiny sharp teeth!) and confessed that I loved disco music.

  He laughed and calmed my fears.

  “Those dogs are more scared of you than you are of them, Rachel!” he scolded me.

  He never did forgive me about that disco thing, though.

  —————

  One bright summer day, we were at a party on Om’s yacht, as it floated in a tropical paradise near Bali.

  Bone was naturally wearing his Speedos, and doing laps in the ship’s deck pool. He’d normally have been swimming from one end of the lagoon to the other, but there were some jellyfish in the waters surrounding the yacht that day, and the Captain had recommended we stay on board.

  I’d soon discover just how dangerous these nasty pests were.

  I decided to come down and join in the water sports that morning.

  I was wearing my one-piece since I felt like a whale that morning.

  I’m not too hard on the eyes, but I am a bit self-conscious.

  I feel fat all the time, even though my doctor tells me I am well-proportioned, and don’t need to lose any weight.

  It’s just one of those silly things.

  I don’t care to understand why, I just ignore it, until I am standing next to a virtual Poseidon, who is sizing me up with those beautiful blue eyes of his.

  Those eyes, combined with his golden hair, and that bit of stubble, and that wonderful tattoo of his.

  That tattoo.

  Each one of my stepbrothers has one on his chest.

  It’s an odd little trait that the brothers share.

  They make a triptych when they stand next to each other, with their naked torsos.

  I don’t begin to understand what the hell it’s all about, but it only makes me even hornier when I see them like that.

  Where was I?

  Oh, yes! Bone’s dreamy blue eyes. His long, luscious hair. I just want to run my fingers through it, while I crush his face against me.

  Whew! I’d better slow down, huh?

  I’m getting a bit steamed up here…

  —————

  Anyway, Bone was swimming laps, and I walked past him, trying to get his attention.

  Because I just love looking at those eyes, right?

  And, not watching where I am going, I walk right off the side of the ship!

  And then, SPLASH!

  I am in the freaking ocean, with jellyfish and sharks and whatever else lives there!

  I plunged off the side of the ship, it’s almost twenty feet to the water.

  When I hit, I smacked my head hard enough to see stars.

  I feel warm and fuzzy, and breathing doesn’t seem to be all that important, but I open my mouth and inhale a bunch of warm, salty ocean water.

  I can see the bottom of the yacht. It’s clear as a bell, and the sun is shining off to one side.

  Someone splashes into the water near the ship, and hardly makes any waves.

  The pattern of circles spreading out is very pretty, the way it catches the sunlight like that.

  Almost makes rainbows and shadows, rainbows and shadows.

  The bubbles that are drifting up from out of my open mouth make funny little shapes, like balloon animals, that rush towards the surface.

  Some look like diamonds, and some like soapy donuts.

  I see this merman swimming towards me, slowly stroking in slow motion like he’s stuck in clear molasses.

  Time is lost to me, and I know I am falling deeper beneath the water, but it’s so peaceful and quiet.

  I like it.

  A feeling of warmth flows through my body, making my pussy quiver, and I think I have an orgasm that goes on and on.

  I think I will stay here.

  Forever.

  —————

  The next thing I know, Bone is giving me mouth-to-mouth on the shore. His beautiful blue eyes are staring at me, a worried look in them. He’s got a strand of saliva running from his gorgeous lips, just hanging there. I want to lick at it.

  “Rachel!” he says. “Are you okay, Baby Doll?”

  —————

  CHAPTER TWO

  Baby Dollr />
  I giggle.

  Baby Doll.

  That’s Bone’s pet name for me.

  I think.

  I mean, I haven’t heard him call anyone else that, at least when I am around.

  It’s stupid really, how I got that nickname from him.

  Just a silly event, something that happened one time.

  An accident.

  It’s nothing, really.

  Just a prank.

  He was being an asshole, and I called him on it.

  It’s nothing.

  Nothing at all.

  Honest.

  —————

  Okay, I’ll dish…

  Several years ago, when I was nineteen and Bone only just twenty, we were in a department store in Tokyo one day, shopping and killing time.

  It was around my birthday, and I was thinking about how different life was, now that we didn’t worry about money anymore.

  Om treated Moms and me like the Queen Bee and her Princess.

  Look, I know about not having money.

  My father worked all his life, and then a stroke took him away.

  I thought we’d been making it okay, but when he was gone, things got a bit dismal for a while.

  To be frank, life had been hard after Dad died. It was a series of one downer after another for almost ten long years.

  Moms did her best, working at her pharmacy job, and I went to school, trying to fit in and be the cheerleader I knew was inside of me.

  You know, the best one in the Squad?

  Not the bitchy one, not the cool one, not the crazy one.

  The Best One.

  The one that would maybe get picked by the NFL to become the Lead Cheerleader.

  Maybe for the Cowboys, or even the Steelers. It was my simple dream, and my passion.

  And, truth be told, I was very good at it. I’d won JV and Varsity trophies, Best in Class, Best Overall and Best Show.

  I never did any of the ball players, though.

  I’d promised myself that I would stay a virgin until I met the right one. The Man of My Dreams.

  And, I managed to have that kind of look that men adore in a cheerleader.

  Oh, I thought I was too fat, but not according to all the wolves I had to keep fending off. I was sorely tempted, many times.

  But, in the background, in my subconscious, I guess, I knew the right one was just over the horizon.

  So, I waited, patiently, while the other girls hooked up and broke up, and even got married.

  I wondered if I were missing out on some vital essence of life - wild, unfettered sex with hot guys.

  I saw the kind of havoc that relationships could cause.

  Many of my friends in school spent all their time worrying about their beaus, or being cheated on by them, or cheating on them. It was depressing, to see how these men were always sniffing around, even after how they mistreated my friends.

  Men were assholes, I concluded.

  And, the man I wanted had to be a prince.

  A dark, sexy, steamy and well-hung prince, an alpha, but not some dumbass with a set of testicles and attitude.

  I saw enough of these stupid frat boys to finally be sure that there was no way I would lose my virginity to some dweeb with a cute haircut, chiseled abs, a cigarette in his mouth and a beer in his hand.

  If only my friends felt that way.

  They were always trying to hook me up, and finally decided to christen me “Elsa”.

  Yeah, ha ha.

  Funny joke, right?

  I wasn’t frigid.

  So, sure, I had a dildo, and some other toys, but that kept me satisfied.

  Not that I didn’t wonder about dick.

  I almost went down on guys once in a while, and even got close to fucking my Prom date, but Moms’ values of hard work and drive kept me sleaze-free.

  Then, she met Om and got married, and suddenly I’m in close proximity with three hot, adorable and studly men.

  All of them were mostly available, (of course, Karl was off exploring the oceans, or climbing some mountain, so he technically ‘wasn’t’, but you know what I mean!)

  And, at the same time, they were ‘off-limits’.

  What a pain in the ass.

  —————

  Oh, you can bet they each had a starring role in my filthy wet dreams, my fantasies, and my frantic masturbation sessions.

  I even had dildos that I had nicknamed for each of them.

  Yeah, I know it sounds weird, but too fucking bad.

  They are MY toys!

  I get to name them anything I want!

  —————

  “Stephan” was a standard vibrator, with some of those knobby beads.

  “He” was reliable, for those times I just wanted to get off and fall asleep. No muss, no fuss. Just all business. Wham, bam, vibrate me, man…

  “Karl” was the kinky one.

  Well, two, actually.

  “They” were a pair of vibrating bullets.

  One went in my hand, to use for clitoral stimulation, and to rub around my pussy lips.

  It produced a nice feeling, buzzy and tingly. I still had to use my fingers, to get inside and feel around, if I wanted that penetration effect.

  And, the other bullet went you-know-where.

  Oh, stop it.

  You know you’ve stuck something up there, at least once.

  Can I help it if I like that?

  Well, I do… so sue me.

  Anyway, that brings us to “Bone”.

  And, since you already know that the real Bone is hung like King Dong, then I guess you would assume that my ‘toy’ is a huge, black, enormously thick and immensely round piece of luscious, pussy-spreading silicone, guaranteed to test the stretching capacity of any vagina.

  And, you’d be absolutely right about most of that.

  Except “Bone” is this nice pink, jelly dildo.

  And, he’s double-ended.

  He’s absolutely, definitely huge.

  So, now you know Rachel’s dirty little, (and big), secrets!

  —————

  I love to stuff “Bone” in my pussy, (of course with plenty of lube!), and then use “Karl” in my ass.

  I’ve yet to find out how I can make myself truly ‘airtight’.

  None of these toys have suction cups, though. It’s kind of hard to position them all just right. Sometimes, they will fall out at the most inopportune times.

  You feel me?

  One time, I tried to do that airtight thing.

  I put “Karl” in my butthole, and then pushed “Stephan” into my wet, throbbing pussy.

  I turned on the power level on both to the middle setting.

  It felt marvelous, as I pushed “Stephan” in and out, and the nice buzzy feeling in my ass from “Karl” made me clench my butt cheeks tight.

  I rode a throbbing orgasm over the edge, running the other “Karl” over my clit.

  Then, after I came again, I tried to cram “Bone” in my mouth.

  It was just not going to happen.

  My mouth wasn’t big enough to accommodate the large silicone cock!

  I pushed it in my wet, creamy pussy to get some more lubrication, and liked the tangy taste of my juice.

  I did this for a while, but try as I might, I couldn’t fit all of “Bone” in there!

  “He” was just too big, regardless of which end, and kept falling out when I got going with the other toys.

  I’d get close, and then open my mouth to moan, and then “he” was sitting there on the pillow, judging me.

  “Too much for you, eh?” I would hear in my crazed mind.

  Usually, I’d stick my tongue out at it, and then I’d just give up and finish myself off, and ponder the wonder of it all.

  —————

  Frustrated, I tried a couple variations:

  1) “Karl” in my butt, (no, not my mouth! What kind of girl do you think I am?), “Stephan” in my mouth, and “Bone” i
n my hot pussy hole. I didn’t like the way “Stephan” clattered against my teeth. It was pretty jarring, and I felt and heard it all through my head. Frankly, I should have stopped after a few minutes, because it gave me a headache, and I think I almost chipped a tooth!

  2) “Karl”, again, in my BUTT. (Sheesh! You guys are pervs!) “Stephan” in my butt, as well. Double-team time! “Bone” slapping me in the face and across my nose. Yeah, it was as stupid as it sounds, but I did like it once I just tossed “Bone” on the pillow, and used my fingers to rub my clit until it was raw. Then, I carefully extracted the toys. For a second there, I thought I might lose old “Karl”. Luckily, the cord didn’t break. That would have been embarrassing at the old Emergency Room.

  3) Okay, bitches. You got me… sigh.

  “Karl” in my mouth, and in my butt.

  Yes, it’s what you think, I am a complete pervert.

  In fact, I kept switching it out from one whole to the other - mouth, ass, pussy.

  Mouth, pussy, mouth, ass.

  Every fucking combination you can think of, I tried.

  The other toys?

  What other toys?

  Me and “Karl” and my fingers.

  My Naughty Secret is that, not only am I a cockaholic, I love the taste of my own juices.

  Mmmmmm.

  Man, do I love them.

  And, so do you, don’t you?

  Perv.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Tokyo Drift

  Anyway, there we were in Tokyo, and I’m stopped in front of the “Greetings Cat” dolls, and off to the side I see Bone looking around at the Japanese girls, in their school clothes.

  This “Japanese” schoolgirl thing is cultural, incidentally.

  It’s not a trope or a stereotypical thing.

  It’s for real.

  And, boy, some of those little cuties look HOT!

  It was almost enough to make me thing about batting for the other team.

  Almost.

  I think my stepbrother thought so as well, as his pantsaconda seemed to be getting a bit hungry.

  Bone was wearing these nice pleated slacks, brown and earthy.

  They molded to his strong legs and thighs perfectly.

  He also had a nice dark green, long-sleeved shirt, and an Under Armour black sport tee underneath it.

  He was wearing his Bass Weejuns, but no socks.

  He looked the perfect, relaxed gentleman of leisure. He seemed more mature than his youthful twenty years.