Page 17 of Stepbrother Obsessed

“So why amIhere?” I ask in a pointed voice. “You know I’m not into virgins. Those girls are unschooled. They’re fucking teens who cry when you so much as lay a finger on their cunts, and it’s more trouble than it’s worth.”

My dad doesn’t miss a beat.

“It’s because you’ve been acting like a motherfucker for a long time now, Nicky,” Steve hums. “You’ve been behaving like there’s a hornet up your ass for years.”

I know what he’s saying because it’s true. Ever since I fucked Kristie at the wedding, my life’s gone downhill. Scratch that. Financially, my life’s been lifted to new heights. I invented a special medical device for nail trephination, which just means that it’s a tool that pierces the nail to drain trapped blood from under a fingernail or toenail. It’s a simple gadget, and used in the ER all the time because lots of patients come in after smashing a digit. The device is cheap too, and it’s been stocked by hospitals and clinics all over the world. Literally, it’s so inexpensive such that even third world hospitals can afford it, and I’ve become a billionaire as a result.

But as my bank account soared, my personal life took a dive. In the free time that I had, I fucked so many women that it’s downright ludicrous. I fucked redheads, blondes, brunettes, old women, young women, barely legal teens and retirees. My dick was indiscriminately thrust into so many holes that I’m surprised I haven’t come down with some disease because I wasn’t always careful either. The long and the short of it is that I became a misogynist. I fucking hated women, and I fucked them hard to make sure they knew.

But the women ate it up, for reasons that are beyond me. Sure, I have a huge dick. Sure, there are some ladies who get off on being fucked so violently that their teeth rattle as their internal organs are being rearranged. Sure, I was generous too. I left a lot of them with cash payouts, in addition to expensive jewelry because the rough beating their cunts took was downright insane. But still, I wouldn’t want to sleep with me because it wasclear I just wanted some action, emotions be damned. Hell, it was better if they cried because that meant they weren’t talking.

But after two years, shit gets real old. I missed Kristie, and I couldn’t forget her. It was a madness that took over my soul, and I’d literally scream Kristie’s name sometimes as I filled some whore’s cunt with spunk. I’d beat my dick, aroused and yet furious that I was still thinking about my fucking stepsister. I wouldn’t talk about it either. Steve made a couple attempts to start a conversation, as did my sister Milly. But I shut them down cold, my expression like stone, and after a while, they gave up.

So yeah, I’ve been acting like a male prostitute for two years now. Two years of chasing strange while smearing my spunk on random female faces. Spurting on their breasts, bellies, and backs. Making them scream with agony as well as pleasure, and forgetting their names the moment I walked out the door, if I ever knew it to begin with. It’s a fucked up existence and I was miserable, so when Steve mentioned Vegas, I figured why the hell not? My dad’s getting old and creaky with occasional chest pains, and we should spend some time male bonding before he kicks the bucket. Enjoying some tits and ass wouldn’t hurt either.

But Club Duality isn’t what I expected. I thought we’d hit up some stripper joints, or even a gentlemen’s club, but I didn’t think there’d be an actual auction of whores. What the fuck? How can this be legal? The truth is that it’s probably not, and it’s a goddamn murky situation.

But now, the lights dim as my father and I enjoy drinks in our private booth. The stage lights outside flare for a moment, and I see what I expected. There are other booths lined up shoulder to shoulder beside ours, arranged in a three hundred sixty degreecircle around an open area. They’re doubtless filled with other billionaires ready to purchase a woman, the men lounging in the utmost comfort as they get ready to splash out with six figures or more.

My dad grins at me, his teeth and hair ghastly white in the darkness.

“You got your clicker?”

I pick up the device from the table and examine it, idly testing the buttons.

“Yeah. Remind me what this is for again?”

My father merely chortles, his slight paunch shaking.

“Motherfucker. For bidding, what else?” he says in an amused voice. “Did you forget? We’re here to buy a piece of ass.”

Then, the lights dim all the way so that it’s completely dark inside the booth. Meanwhile, a spotlight comes on in a bright circle outside, and a middle-aged Asian woman steps into the ring. She’s dressed formally, but in a weird way, with her hair lacquered into a stiff ponytail that doesn’t move. She’s wearing an embroidered skirt suit that also looks oddly stiff, and her mouth is a red gash.

“Welcome, gentlemen,” she purrs. “I’m Phyllis and I’ll be your auctioneer tonight. Welcome to Club Duality.”

She says a few more things, but I’m not listening. I’ve already lost interest in fact. If it doesn’t have bolt on boobs and a sopping wet cunt, then my ear drums don’t register any words.

But soon enough, Phyllis gestures off into the darkness, and a teen blonde comes wobbling out, dressed in nothing but a filmyslip and high heels. She’s gorgeous of course, if a bit thin. Her arms and legs are gawky like a newborn foal, and her tits small and flat, although her features are uncommonly luscious.

“This is Katie,” Phyllis sings with a sweep of her arm. “Eighteen and untouched, from Wichita, Kansas. Need I say more, gentlemen? Let the bidding begin.”

Okay, so there really isn’t going to be any background information. Instead, the numbers on a screen before Phyllis begin to flicker, and the auctioneer gasps with delight.

“We have an opening bid of fifty thousand dollars! Thank you, Mr. Jones in Booth 3. We’re off to a great start.”

Oh fuck, she knows who the buyers are, and is naming them as well. Well, what the fuck. I don’t really care if these assholes know that I bought a woman, because we’re all here for the same shit. Besides, if Katie is what’s on tap tonight, then my wallet’s going to stay closed because I don’t trade in skinny chicks. I’ve never been into knobby knees and sharp elbows, and I sit back to nurse my drink as the auction continues.

“Do I hear more?” Phyllis calls into the darkness. “One hundred for Katie? One fifty?”

I see my dad clicking idly, his expression amused as he takes in the girl outside.

“Yo Steve, that girl’s a quarter your age,” I drawl. “Literally, she could be your granddaughter. Not your daughter. Yourgranddaughter,” I emphasize.

“Yeah,” my dad murmurs, his eyes still glued to the teen blonde as she slips out of her thin dress. She’s nude underneath except for a tiny bit of pink floss shielding her pussy, and then ...whoops! Yep, Katie just lost the g-string, and is now bending over to show us her pale pink cunt. Again, skinny girls aren’t my thing so I’m a bit horrified at the lack of meat on her thighs and ass. I want something to grab when I’m fucking a woman, and clearly there’s nothing there but skin and bones. I swear, some chicks need to be fattened up before they go up for sale. They should be force-fed a giant McRib sandwich, with some fries tossed in as well.

But Steve doesn’t seem perturbed by the vertebrae poking through her skin, nor the enormous thigh gap between her slim legs. Instead, he clicks away, smiling happily through the glass.

“Yeah, she’s cute,” he says in a careless voice. “We can role-play some scene like a grandfather and granddaughter hooking up for fun on vacation. You now, shit like that.”

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