Page 114 of Stepbrothers

“Maybe.”

“There’s no maybe about it.” He squeezed her buttock again. “And you know it.”

She wriggled and slipped her hand lower, over his bush of pubic hair and found his semi-hard cock. “Okay, okay, I know it.” She wrapped her hand around his length.

Instantly, his shaft stiffened, growing in her fist.

“Baby,” he whispered. “I think you need to sleep. You’re exhausted.”

“You don’t want to?”

“It’s not that. I’m thinking of you.”

“You’re sweet.” She stroked him from root to tip then slid her finger over his slit. “For thinking of me.”

He moaned, then in a gruff voice said, “No one has ever called me sweet before.”

“First time for everything.” With her free hand, she flipped away the duvet so she could see his cock. With each up and down movement of her hand, his tip peeked out.

“Clarice,” he said on an outward breath.

“Let me play,” she said. “Let me give you pleasure, like this. I want to watch you come.”

He seemed to relax at her words, sag almost. Giving himself over to her. “I won’t argue with that.”

“Good.” She worked him with firm, regular strokes, listening to his breaths becoming shallower and watching his belly tense to bricks. After a few minutes, she spoke again. “Is this how you like it?”

“Yeah, fuck…” He wrapped his hand around hers. “But you can hold me tighter.” His fist squeezed her hold on him, following her movement. “I won’t break.”

The grasp was steely now. He groaned and kicked the duvet further off. His skin was heating against hers.

“And twist at the top,” he said coarsely, “I like it like this.” He showed her; it was only a small movement just below the tip.

“Like that?” she asked.

“Yeah.” A full-body tremble took hold of him, and he released her hand and gripped the sheet. “Fuck, yeah, like that.”

“Is it how you touch yourself?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Just like that.”

Being sure to keep to the same grip and speed and with the little twist, she jerked him off.

He was moaning softly, but his body was a coiled spring. He held her tight with one arm, and his knees had drawn up.

Excitement coursed through Clarice’s veins. To have Parker surrender like this, his trust, his vulnerability, was thrilling. Her arm ached, but she didn’t care. She wanted to give him pleasure, feel him come, see him come.

“Oh fuck…” His hips canted to meet her movements. “I’m going to…don’t fucking stop. Don’t…stop…now…”

His free hand clawed at the sheet, and his chest expanded as he held in a big drag of air.

“Come,” she said breathlessly. “Come, Parker.”

He did. A thick rope of pearly release shot onto his belly.

His cock throbbed in her hand, and she stayed with him as another and another burst of semen surged out of his slit. His abdomen was basted with it, his navel flooded.

“Oh god, yes, that’s it.” He curled his hand around hers, stilling her movements. “Fuck, Clarice. That felt so good.” His hips sank to the bed, and his legs slid out straight again.

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