Page 6 of Huge

“And sitting in tiny book rooms with strange boys?” His breath gusts against my ear when he murmurs the last thing, and I shiver from head to foot. I find I can’t answer him now. The mesmerizing rhythm of his finger and the scent of him I pick up now he’s moved closer, are almost too much for me to bear. I’m light-headed, buzzing, crazy even. Crazy for my stepbrother.

He doesn’t kiss my lips first. I guess that would be too obvious for Harrison. I should have known he’d go for the little patch of sensitive skin below my ear and just graze it with his soft lips. He nuzzles against my ear with his nose and the roughness of his chin scrapes against my neck. It feels so good. So amazingly good, in fact, that I moan just slightly. When I do, I feel him smiling against my neck.

“So strange girls who come to parties alone and like to sit in little book rooms with strange boys like to get their necks kissed, do they?” he asks with a chuckle in his voice.

“Uh-hu,” is all I can manage, and he laughs softly.

He shifts closer until our legs press together and his hand is cupping the back of my head, pulling me towards his smiling face.

Harrison’s going to kiss me. He’s going to kiss me, and my heart seems to stutter in my chest and then re-fire at a staggering rate as I simultaneously pray the kiss will be mind-blowing while also hoping he won’t somehow remove my wig or mask and reveal who I am.

When our lips touch, it’s the softest kiss I’ve ever experienced, just a graze at first really, then a little press as he angles my head, pulling my bottom lip between his and sucking so gently I want to weep. I’ve imagined what kissing Harrison would be like so many times, but I had it completely wrong in my fantasies. I thought he’d be a grabby person, demanding with his kisses and forceful with his demands, but he isn’t.

At least not now.

Now it’s like he’s tasting me, feeling me out, and trying to work out what I like.

I like it all.

I want to tell him just to carry on doing what he’s doing because he’s doing it all right. He’s perfect for me in ways I didn’t even expect.

When our tongues touch for the first time, I have to lean into him, take hold of his huge, muscled shoulder, and dig my fingers into it, just so I don’t float away. My reaction seems to spur him on because suddenly his kisses are more urgent, tongue sliding across mine like the precursor to fucking that it is.

It’s that thought that has me remembering what I saw when I walked past his room, the thing that spurred me to finally take action and do something about the lust and craving I’ve been feeling for Harrison since he moved into my house. I want to reach out and rest my hand in his lap. I want to know if he’s as turned on as I am. Everything is so hot between my thighs. I squeeze them together to try to release some pressure, but it only makes it worse.

“Fuck you’re hot,” he says, pulling back and looking me in the eye. My purple contacts are my protection against him, recognizing me this close. He rubs my nose with the tip of his and kisses me again, this time hooking his arm around my back and pulling me forward. “Get onto my lap.” He’s tugging me now until my legs rest on either side of his, and my skirt is pushed up so high he must be able to see the tops of my holdups and my sheer black panties. He tugs me forward until my pussy presses into his lap, and I can feel his massive dick straining against his pants. It’s like he has one of those nightsticks that doormen carry down his shorts and it presses against my clit in a way that makes me want to buck against him. Oh fuck. His fingers press into the soft flesh of my hips, delicious pain mixed with the pleasure of his frantic kiss. I can’t control my hands that want to grab hold of big firm chunks of him and squeeze. I settle on resting my hands on his chest, and what an amazing chest it is, too. In my mind, I see him standing naked in his room, pecs rounded, and stomach flat and rippled with a six-pack I could practically file my nails on. I don’t want all these clothes between us. I want skin against skin, pressing, sweating, sliding until we forget our names and lose our minds in each other. I want to see him come apart because I’ve made him feel that good. I want to watch him reach the moment of pleasure that feels so unbelievable that he forgets himself and just is.

And I want to store it all up in my mind so I can remember this moment when he’s moved on and found someone else to love, and I have to sit opposite him at thanksgiving and pretend I don’t feel the way I do about him.

When I have to be just his stepsister again.

We kiss, and we kiss, and I run my hands over his chest, willing him to do more, but he seems reluctant, and I don’tunderstand why. It’s me that slips my hands inside his costume and onto his naked skin. He’s so warm under my fingertips and so firm, and when I stroke across his chest, I find his nipple and graze it with the point of my nail. Harrison jumps at the action but pulls me down against him harder, almost thrusting into my lap. His fingers run up the outside of my thighs until he finds the bare skin and squeezes. He doesn’t stop there, pushing the skirt of my dress up around my waist and guiding his hands to cup the cheeks of my ass, fingering the thin lace running between, stroking down between them and lifting me higher. I’m kneeling up now, raised in front of him, looking down as he stares between my legs with fire in his eyes. I grab onto the back of the couch for stability as he uses his index finger to trace a line down the front of my panties so softly, I almost can’t feel anything, but at the same time, it’s so unbelievably arousing.

“Can I look?” he asks huskily, and I want to tell him he already is, but I don’t want to break the spell with my smart mouth. Instead, I slip my hand down between my legs and pull the material aside, baring myself to his heated gaze.

“Fuck,” he mutters, adjusting his cock before he sucks on his finger to get it good and wet. I think he’s going to go straight for my clit, but I’m wrong. Harrison reaches his wet finger up and slips it into my mouth. “Suck,” he says, watching me move my head forward and take his finger down to the knuckle. I look into his eyes as I pull back, knowing how explicit it must look to see my red lips wrapped around his finger like that.

He parts my pussy lips with one hand and uses his moistened finger to stroke my clit round and round. The pressure he uses is just perfect, and the way he concentrates on the task is driving me insane. I roll my hips against his touch,look up to the ceiling and surrender to the intensity of feeling that being with Harrison this way is giving me.

“Oh yeah, you like that,” he says, slipping his finger downwards into my wetness, pressing up and in so slowly my legs shake. “That looks so fucking good.” He pushes another finger in deep and twists his hand so first the tips of his fingers, and then the joints graze my g-spot. I start to move, raising up and down, hooked on his hand and on his words. The sound of his voice hitching with arousal does something to me, and I want to hear more.

“Tell me what you want,” I whisper.

“I want to feel you come,” he replies. “I want to feel your pussy flutter and hear the moans you’ll make. I want to play with your clit until it hurts and then make it feel so good you come again.”

“Oh,” I gasp when he uses his other hand to stroke my clit, fingers still pushing and twisting inside me.

“That’s it, baby.” Harrison’s voice cracks like he can’t believe what’s happening. Maybe he wasn’t expecting to get lucky tonight. Maybe he doesn’t usually do this kind of thing. Maybe I’m a terrible corrupting influence on him. It’s that thought that pushes me over the edge, grabbing onto the back of the couch and curing forward with my pleasure.

“Mmmm,” is the only sound that comes from my lips, a keening noise that sounds barely human.

“That’s it,” he says again, with a strange tone of awe in his voice, as though he can’t quite believe what is happening either. Then he pulls me towards him and wraps his arms around mywaist, holding me tight while I come down from the place in the stratosphere he sent me to. The kisses he presses onto my temple and cheek are tender and sweet.

“You look fucking amazing when you come,” he whispers in my ear. I can hear the need in his voice and feel the evidence of his arousal beneath me. I want to satisfy him too.

“Make me come again,” I say, and he chuckles.

“Demanding little thing, aren’t you,” he replies cockily, but the look on his face when I draw back and undo his pants is priceless. “Oh, you want that…”

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