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  Stick

  I can't believe I'm sitting here in my old home and Scherri is sitting right across from me. What's even more astounding, to me at least, is that our parents don't seem to be aware of the steamy heat floating around the room and pooling across the table between her and I. The electrical sparks must be creating a force-field that only the two of us feel. At least I hope she feels it too, because I've got fireworks detonating in me enough for the both of us.

  The four of us have a lighthearted meal although I can't fail to notice how frequently Scherri's Mom tosses out a barbed remark at her daughter. Everything Scherri told me about her life at home growing up now makes sense, as well as why she elected to go with her dad when the family broke up. I feel bad and wish I could step in and defend Scherri. Tell the woman to cool off, that she's blessed with the most fabulous girl in the world as a daughter. It would probably only make things worse.

  I recall how Scherri said her mother gets into a rage if she's crossed. So with every snarky comment, I seek out Scherri's eyes to send her a bolster. And am warmed by the receipt of a little smile of secret grats in return.

  After clearing the dinner things, Dad wants to head back to the den for some more father, son bonding. But I beg off, claiming the need for a shower and some shuteye.

  “Alright son, I guess you remember where your room is, although it's changed a little.”

  “Yeah. Thanks. We'll talk more tomorrow, Pop.”

  “Good to have you home, son.”

  Before heading upstairs, I flash a look at Scherri, unwilling to leave her. I find her glancing back at me, gluing me to her and wish I could pick her up, toss her over my shoulder and carry her up the stairs straight to my bed. Instant cinematic imagery throws itself against the back of my eyes. Of her on her back with me standing between her spread thighs. The need to gaze upon the spread cleft of her little pink pussy is driving me to the brink of insanity.

  And this is insane.

  I get that. but it's completely out of my control. The searing need to slide inside her warm tightness is all I can think of. The only burning need that claims any part of my life now. I don't care about my future or my past, all I care about is claiming Scherri and making her mine at last. Now and for good.

  Once in the bathroom, I peel off my sweaty clothes and turn the water on full blast, hot as I can stand, although ice cold is probably more what I need. Every taut muscle is pulsating with need to crush Scherri's soft and sexy little curves against me.

  Just the thought of her naked in here with me has my cock rearing up full mast, like a fucking pirate galleon in a full wind. The hunger lodged in my solid hot iron is unbearable and not likely to be satiated any time soon. I take the searing pole in my palm and stroke its length, letting out a low moan as I picture Scherri's small hand there in my place. Her little fingers rotating around the wide girth, pleasuring every pore of my burning skin.

  “Fuck. I need her so bad.”

  I touch my forehead to the stone tile and let the water pummel my solid back as I pick up the pace and jerk the bulging stiff rod with more force. I conjure up the image of Scherri lying spread open on my bed as I thrust into her balls deep, harder than she's ever been taken. Her delicious tits bouncing with every hard jolt of my cock into her tight pussy.

  Shit, she'd be mad as all hell if she knew the filthy disgusting thoughts I'm having for her. If she could see me standing in the shower beating off to the images of her spread open pussy mouth and my cock disappearing inside her. If she knew how I'm imagining pulling out to the tip before plunging harder into her, holding still, buried deep into her as she shivers and lets out a mewling tremor, she'd hate me.

  My toes curl and my thighs turn hard and shake as my climax builds then erupts in an explosion as I groan out her name.

  “Fuck,” I grit against the wall.

  The things she's doing to me. I never expected this. Vaguely satiated, I tuck a small towel around my hips, gather my clothes off the floor and step out to pad across the hall back to my room.

  “Oh. Hi.” Scherri's right outside the door as I fling it back, not expecting it to be much lighter than I remember.

  “Hi.”

  Fuck, it's good to see her again. So freaking stupid that I missed her in the twenty minutes we've been apart.

  “I- er – I was just on my way up to my room, that is, I wasn't waiting for you here,” she half stutters.

  “That's too bad,” I toss right back.

  Her cheeks turn that adorable pink color. I don't remember her ever being this shy and blushing so frequently. But I like it.

  “It is?”

  “Yeah. I could do with a chance to be alone with you. Like the old days.”

  “Like, lying across your bed?” she asks with a brazen little smile.

  “Yeah, something like that.”

  Her eyes keep dropping down to my bare stomach, traveling over the solid ridges of my six-pack that certainly weren't there last time she saw me naked. When we went for a dip with Stone up at the lake.

  Now she can hardly fail to notice the tenting going on in my towel, as my bastard is back at half mast already, greedy and hungry for more.

  “I'm just heading up to the attic now,” she whispers, moving down the hall, with me following just as though I'm attached to a leash.

  “So you said.”

  She starts to climb the narrow stairs to the roof, not much more than a ladder. I tip my head up to watch her and her cheeky face tilts back down, fully aware that she's offering me a view straight up her short skirt. And what a view. Her round ass, the small crease of her pussy and the obvious damp spot on her panties at her sweet pussy mouth. My cock is pointing straight to the stars, bulging with yearning to plunge inside her all the way to the root. But not before I've spread her thighs wide and tasted her sweetness.

  “Good night then, you two,” my father appears at the other end of the hall and his wife right behind.

  Lyndsey throws me a little glare, none too pleased that I'm back by the looks of things. But I don't care about that. Not now Scherri and I are together again.

  “Night, Babe,” I tell Scherri, parked frozen halfway up her steps.

  I can hardly follow her up to her bedroom wearing nothing but a small towel strapped around my wood, while our parents look on. Thank fuck I'm holding my casual fatigues over the huge bulge in the tiny towel because this massive bastard would raise eyebrows for sure. Lunging directly up at my supposed step-sister.

  Chapter SEVEN

  Scherri

  I crawl into the attic room bed feeling a sulk push out my bottom lip for the first time in five years. You'd think I'd have outgrown that but, dammit if being back in the family home isn't working out well at all. The situation with Stick showing up is not what I expected and having both our parents interrupt every potentially perfect moment means I'm never going to get the happy ending I'm looking for.

  I'm sure he had every intention of coming up to my room and giving me what I need. And oh my god, his body, his almost naked body was the most incredible thing I've ever seen. Stick has turned into a literal god, his shoulders wide and pumped up with virile strength, his core narrow and flat but flexing with two rows of muscular ridges and then that v shape pointing me direct to – heaven.

  What would have happened if I'd never left? Would Stick and I have made it? Would we have been able to turn our friendship from best buds to something more? Because if I'd had to watch him turn into the man he's become while getting all hot for some other girl, it would have killed me. I literally could not have borne it.

  I writhe around on the bed. Thinking about the small towel strapped around powerful narrow hips and get all twisted up in the sheet. My fingers keep finding their way between my thighs, stroking across my engorged sensitive little point, making me shudder with urgent need. I didn't know it but I've been waiting for Stick all these years and now that I recognize it, the craving desire has become unendurable.

  I need
him right now. And I'm confident he wants this as much as I do.

  The clock reads two, then three. I sleep in short bursts and wake up disoriented and soaked between my thighs. One time I'm certain I hear a noise down in the hallway and my heart hurls itself into my throat. I lie still as a corpse, holding my breath while my pussy throbs with anticipation.

  But then nothing happens.

  Stick doesn't appear in the half gloom. Maybe I was dreaming. Maybe lust is diminishing my reason. Another time I jolt awake, certain I hear a male voice, close to me. I turn over, slowly with a decadent wriggle but again – no one is in my room. Then I hurl myself out of bed, determined to climb down one floor and slip into Stick's room. I need to know if he wants this as much as I do. I can't wait any longer or I'll expire from lack of sleep.

  I press my ear against his door, my heart throbbing at the back of my mouth. My clit is pulsating with an agonized achy throb I need relieved. I press down on the handle, shaking right down to my toes. At least if he doesn't want me, I can claim I just came down to hang, like old times. That won't seem too weird in the middle of the night, right? Then I hear voices again and my heart leaps about ten beats while the blood surges into my cheeks. I peek around the half open door and Stick isn't there. His bed is empty and even more tussled than mine.

  I give up.

  This night is jinxed and I'm going to have to live with the swollen demand pressing at my edges. I pad downstairs looking for the sugar fix in a glass of juice and the aroma of coffee hits me at the same time those male voices do.

  “Here she is,” Mr G. says as I wander into the kitchen, rubbing sleep out of my eyes.

  Oh my god, he's sitting at the counter, wearing nothing but a pair of low slung sweat pants and his torso is so damn hot, even hotter next to his father, looking limp beside him in a baggy white tee.

  “Mornin', couldn't you sleep either?” Stick says with a grin.

  No doubt he's amused at my bed-head hair, made worse by my tossing about in frustration. But I notice his eyes are heading the opposite direction from my scalp. He grazes across my body with his ravenous stare. Taking in my nipples prodding through the thin material of my tank, but he doesn't stop there. His hunger continues to devour every pore as he moves over my tummy to my bare thighs. Very bare being barely covered by the little pajama shorts I have on.

  While Mr G, facing the breakfast bar, continues sipping his coffee, Stick, behind him but turned on his stool to face me, his legs splayed to give room to the enormous jabbing prong in his sweats. I can't stare at his cock, throbbing and – Jesus – it looks freaking huge. Not that I know much about how to determine that. Perhaps it's a trick of the loose fabric of his pants. But the way that thing is thrusting at me, those dangerously low slung pants look set to drop.

  Oh god.

  My eyes bat up to his face and discover him meandering his way back up my body, drinking up every part of me with appreciation. I can't help but feel proud that Stick finds me – desirable. That his swollen prick is pounding to be free of his pants and inside – me.

  His gaze has returned to hold mine and I stammer out a response to his question at last.

  “Um, no. I was up all night. Wriggling around. Because I couldn't sleep. Not because – of anything else. I came down to get what I needed, to relieve my, um, sleeplessness.”

  “Me too. Tossing and turning. Needing something. I came out to find it and ran right into Dad in the hallway,” he says, his eyes flashing a whole ton of significance.

  That smile is holding a wealth of filthy intent. I grin back at him, our mutual understanding sealed. His eyes drop again to my hard nipples and his tongue curls out to nuzzle at the corner of his mouth. Christ, my knees almost buckle with the pressing need to have that tongue lap at my horny little peak.

  “I see you all started the day without me,” the voice behind me sets my teeth on edge.

  My mom strides in and takes up her position in the middle of the room, centered on the breakfast counter. She tuts when she sees there's only half a cup of coffee remaining in the pot and turns to make more.

  “I should shower and get to work. We can talk more about this later, son. And if you think you do want to see a PTSD specialist, I'm behind you all the way.”

  What? PTSD? Stick is traumatized? Ohmigod, what the hell must he have gone through?

  “I'm fine, Dad,” he says with a roll of his eyes at me like, 'Parents, huh? Always making something out of nothing'.

  But I don't think it's nothing. Stick's doing that to make light of his feelings. Just like he did when his Mom had died, except I was too young to detect it back then.

  “I could do with some home made pancakes for breakfast. Can I cook up some for everyone?” Stick invites us.

  “You can cook?” I say, although it comes out as a squeak.

  “I can get through a stack of pancakes pretty well,” he says, his eyes alight with teasing.

  He sure doesn't seem traumatized but I wouldn't know what that actually looks like.

  “We're all out of milk,” my mother says triumphantly, as she tips the last of the carton into her coffee.

  “No problem, I'll run to the store and get some,” I volunteer.

  “I'll go with you,” Stick says, following me out of the kitchen to throw on some clothes.

  At last. Some alone time.

  “I'm sure she can manage three blocks by herself without a chaperone,” my mother shouts.

  I'm half up the stairs but Stick turns to face my mother and inform her in no uncertain terms; “I'm sure she can, but I want to be with her.”

  I think I've never loved him more than that moment.

  Chapter EIGHT

  Stick

  I throw on a tee, leaving the bedroom door open, I'm so eager to be outside the house and alone with Scher. I'm commando in my sweats, but what the heck? The beast is gonna do his own thing anyways, one pair of underwear can't contain him from fighting free for what he wants. It'd take a double reinforced jock for that. And even then….

  Scherri's legs appear on the ladder steps and I nearly lose my fucking load. She's switched the PJ shorts for an even smaller denim pair that barely cover her pussy at the fold. I have never seen anything hotter in my life.

  She looked freaking incredible all tousled up from her bed. A spot I should have been right beside her all night, holding her enclosed in my arm. And knowing she had nothing on under her sleepwear, her delicious nipples pushing through the tight white fabric, was freaking incendiary. She still isn't wearing a bra now. Her perfect pointed tits are all perky, as they bounce with every step closer to me. I can barely form words with my mouth thanks to the ravenous desire to tug each one between my lips.

  She comes up to me with a cheeky smile, knowing exactly, I'm sure, the torture she's inflicting.

  “Bad girl,” I grit out, taking her hand to lead her down the stairs.

  Outside on the porch, I turn to pull her to me and plant a kiss on her mouth, just so she knows where we're headed. But the front door flies open and her mother is standing up in my grill. Or so it seems.

  “Come right back,” she says, like we're still ten years old.

  Scherri snatches her hand away from mine, which irritates me. I don't care who knows what I feel for her, have always felt.

  “We have to go visit your grandmother,” Lyndsey insists.

  Scherri and I mutter some lame agreements then wander down toward the store. Through the walk and purchasing the milk, we're silent with each other. An awkwardness suddenly dropped which could mean Scher is thinking about her gran. Or something else. Like what she heard my father say over coffee earlier. That would be a complete turn off for a girl. But I get the idea it has to do with our parents being married – which technically makes us related.

  But only technically.

  “It's gonna be a scorcher of a day,” I say.

  So lame talking about the weather but I need to break into the lull.

  “It's already
pretty steamy out here,” she says.

  If she had even the slightest idea of what I dreamt of every night when I lay back in my camp bed. One hand behind my head, staring up at the ceiling while the other stroked my hard iron rod and pictured Scherri's delectable little body bent over in front of me. Then she'd know what steamy really is.

  On a whim, I grab hold of her hand and take off, in the other direction from the house.

  “Stick, stop,” she pants, jogging to keep up with me.

  “Where are we going?”

  “You don't remember?”

  We reach the end of the houses and cut through the lot to dive into the trees. The hill climbs steeply at first and I pull her along, helping her to keep up.

  “Our dipping lake on hot days like this?”

  “You wanna swim?” she squeals. “Now?”

  “Yeah, don't you? Wanna cool off.”

  “You heard my mom, I have to go visiting.”

  “Yeah I know, but Dad told me visiting hours are eleven to one so he hadn't been able to go. This thing will be sorted out before eleven.”

  “This thing?” she's panting now, her little legs struggling to keep up with my training.

  “You telling me you don't feel it?” I ask as we reach the top of the incline and the dark blue lake appears between its necklace of pine. “The heat?”

  “I do, I'm burning up,” she says and takes off for the water as she pulls her tee over her head and tosses it.

  Her back is naked and I can easily picture those delectable bare tits bouncing as she runs. I take off after her immediately. She's splashing in the water as she struggles to unbutton her shorts. I'm ripping off my sweats and almost catch up to her as she bends down to step out of her clothes, her gorgeous ass cheeks rising up alabaster smooth in the morning sunlight.

  I'm momentarily frozen, thinking back to another time that Scherri innocently stripped out of her shorts. That perfect summer day, or was it only perfect because we were still kids?

  Except we weren't kids then, we were sixteen. My dick had rared up so hard I sank to the ground and let Stone come lick my face to cover my massive erection, even though he was dripping from a plunge in the water. He laved my cheek with his scorching rough tongue then shook off, showering both Scher and I with cool droplets. She laughed that beautiful soft sound that's exclusive to her. So different from all the other girls' high pitched squeaks and squawks. Then she bent over to step out of her shorts.