Page 10 of Stepbrother Obsessed

So after my shift, I threw myself into the sack and turned off the lights. But sleep evaded me, even though I was bone-tired, because I wanted to see Kristie. I wanted her lush curves and sweet kisses, and after only a few days of hedonism, I was addicted. After tossing and turning for what felt like the entire night, the battle of wills was lost and I drove home at sixty miles an hour, making like a bat out of hell.

But imagine my surprise when I returned. The house was quiet because it was still the grey hours of dawn, so I tiptoed down the hall to Kristie’s bedroom. The door was ajar, and after I pushed it open, I almost gagged because holy fuck, but bad shit was going on. My dad had his hands all over the young girl’s curves. Not only that, but she was nude and loving it. Kristie’s silky robe hung open, exposing those DD breasts and that swollen, moist cunt. Hell, she was damp and rosy all over, obviously post-coital.

“Nick!” she screamed when she saw me, eyes going wide. “What are you doing back?”

“Son?” my father asked, a stunned look on his features. “Hell, we thought you were on shift at the hospital.”

Of course they did because that was the original plan. But plans change, and I didn’t even say anything. Instead, I backpedaled and got out of there so fast that my hair practically caught fire. Then, I drove like hell on wheels to the hospital and swerved into a parking space before letting out an aggrieved roar.

Kristie is sleeping with my dad? What the fuck? How long has this been going on?

But rumors have been swirling about them for a long time. Austin high society is fucking cruel, and Steve’s made a lot of enemies over the decades. It’s not his fault. My father is a handsome silver fox, and he’s dated and dumped a lot of socialites ever since Kristie’s mom passed. But the gossip surrounding him never bothered me before –until now.

Because evidently, the ladies were right: Steve has been fucking my stepsister under the table, seeing how familiar they were with each other. Even crazier, Kristie consented to it andslept with me within the same twenty-four hours. She’s a two-timing slut who has no qualms about offering her pussy to a father and son pair, however depraved it sounds.

What the fuck! I let out another scream in the solitude of my car, my hands gripping the wheel with white knuckles. What kind of whore does this? How could I have misjudged her so badly? I was livid with rage, shock, anger, and terror. I threw open the door to my car and stomped straight into the emergency room.

“Dr. Bradley, is everything okay?” a nurse asked, a worried expression on her face. “Do you need medical assistance?”

I ignored her, and went to one of the break rooms before shutting myself in and letting out another thunderous roar. The blonde slut was two-timing me, and I couldn’t process. I needed to rage, scream, yell and throw things, or I needed to put myself into a stupor using narcotics and alcohol. But unfortunately, my pager beeped at that moment, and ultimately it was the ER that forced me back to my senses.

But in the two years since, Kristie’s always in the back of my mind. The beautiful blonde haunts me, and I’d do anything to break the spell. Believe me, I’ve tried. I go on dates with hot interns. I sleep with sassy models who have DD breasts and wide hips. I even slake my lust on busty prostitutes sometimes, happy to throw money at the problem. But it never works, and somehow, visions of the golden vixen always come back to mind. It happens at the weirdest times too, like when I’m administering Narcan to a junkie, or picking up lunch from the local bodega. Kristie’s always somehow circulating in the back of my mind, impossible to ignore.

But it's clear that she’s forgotten me because the truth is that I never meant anything to her. Last I heard, Kristie moved to Vegas to pursue a career as a plus-size model, and that in and of itself has been hell on wheels because she’s been successful. So successful, in fact, that I’m unable to escape her image. She’s present everywhere I turn, and I’ve seen my stepsister’s delicate features on a few billboards, while Milly always shows me her catalogs.

“Isn’t it wonderful?” my little sis burbled, admiring a particularly fetching photo of our gorgeous sister dressed in a skimpy swimsuit. “She’s plus-size, and yet she’s on the cover of this catalog! How impressive!”

“Give me that,” I snarled, snatching the glossy pages from her hands. Then, I devoured the image before throwing it carelessly onto the couch.

“Yeah, I’m glad she’s doing well,” I managed in a nonchalant voice.

“Kristie’s doing better than well!” Milly squealed, picking up the catalog again. “I’m so proud of her for knocking the fashionworld off its feet! I just wish she’d come home though. She hasn’t been back in ages, and nothing I say can convince her.”

“She’ll be back,” I say in a low voice. “I’m sure of it.”

“But when?” Milly murmured, still looking at the glossy image of Kristie. “I miss Kris so much.”

Fortunately, Milly’s dreams were answered because my younger sister is getting married, and Kristie’s in attendance for the entire wedding weekend. It’s going to be hell, and I mentally prepared myself for it.

She’s nothing to you, the voice in my head snarled.Just some chick you fucked in the past. Another notch in your bedpost.

Yet when I laid eyes on the golden goddess at the rehearsal dinner last night, my heart clenched. Yes, me, super fucking alpha male Nick Bradley, grew mushy inside at the sight of a woman. Kristie appeared even more beautiful than I remember, clad in a purple outfit that highlighted her big bust and wide hips. She’s put on weight, and it only served to make her more lush and inviting. Ready for action, my cock twitched tellingly in my trousers.

But we didn’t talk at the engagement party, nor at the ceremony this morning. In fact, I think Kristie’s been studiously avoiding me, and I’ve been giving her wide berth as well. Yet my eyes are drawn to that curvy figure. I can’t help but devour her Double D breasts, remembering when I suckled at those hard pink teats. I remember caressing her between her thighs too, my palm soaked with her fluids as she moaned and writhed from the male touch on her cunt. I feel her everywhere, my body inflamed and hard, and yet she’s fucking off limits.

Fortunately, the weekend’s already almost over. The ceremony’s done, and now, Milly climbs onto a chair for the bouquet toss, as single ladies gather in a cluster behind her. Quite a few male guests watch with bemused eyes as the women chatter excitedly, some with their arms extended in anticipation.

“This is going to be a shitshow,” a man to my left murmurs, his blue eyes dancing.

“Dibs on the one in blue,” another muttered, his gaze fixed to a waif-like young woman dressed in a sky-colored shift. “Shit, I hope she’s eighteen.”

Meanwhile, Milly was in her element.

“I want you ladies to work for it!” my little sister cried with joy before facing away and lowering her arms. “Three... two... one...catch!”

The bouquet soared into the air in a high arc. Pink ribbons trailed from the roses as hungry hands clamored from below. Girls jostled each other, literally shrieking with joy, and quite a few elbows were tossed in an effort to catch the beautiful blooms.

But Kristie was positioned just right, and the bouquet plopped in her grasp. Her big blue eyes were surprised as she caught my gaze from across the way, the spark between us electric. What would it be like to have Kristie as my bride? To see her, flushed and beautiful with a white veil on those golden tresses as we exchanged vows? To kiss that pretty pout as I claimed her before the world?

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