Page 120 of Stepbrothers

Smack. Smack.

As she jolted forward, she gritted her teeth and stared at Parker’s handsome face. Perhaps that would help with the throbbing layering up on her bottom.

“She’s going very pink,” Hugh said.

A hand—Hugh’s hand?—caressed her buttocks.

“Yeah, it’s satisfying to see,” Trig added. Oh yeah, he was enjoying spanking her. Kinky bugger.

“Her flesh is so pale,” Hugh said. “But she goes cherry red with a spanking.”

“I think we’ve nearly achieved cherry red,” Trig replied with a chuckle.

The hand lifted from her ass.

Another two smacks. The tinny slapping sound of flesh on flesh echoed around the kitchen. The biting heat on her buttocks had her gasping.

“Oh god, please, no more.” She was dancing on her toes. Her sweats slipped further down her legs.

Then they were helped to her calves and feet. Someone dragged them off, leaving her bottom half bare.

It was Trig stroking her ass now, she could tell by his work-rough hands. “Sexy fucking ass, though, right, Hugh?”

“Damn right. Good handful.”

It was strangely erotic to hear them talking about her like this. About her body.

“Feel her pussy,” Hugh went on. “She’ll be sopping wet. Always is when she’s spanked.”

“Why? She enjoy it or something?”

“No!” She twisted within Parker’s hold on her hands. “I don’t. So just…oh…”

Two fingers had found her entrance and pushed in deep.

Her mouth hung slack as she stared at the flecks in Parker’s eyes. His concentration on her was intense.

“Ah fuck, she’s sopping,” Trig said. “Like really fucking wet for it.”

“Told you,” Hugh said. “Little minx, huh.”

“Hell yeah.” Trig pushed deeper, stroking over her G-spot and then giving it a firm rub.

She clenched around him and trembled, her stomach tightening and her breaths coming shallow. Hugh knew her too well. A spanking did get her wet. She didn’t know why. But when her ass was reddened it only took a touch and she was aroused as hell.

“Well, if she’s this turned on, we should do something about it,” Trig said. “Parker, pass me that olive oil.”

“Sure thing.”

Parker released her hands, leaving her lying there, sacrificial almost, over the island, as Trig pumped in and out of her pussy with his fingers. She moaned softly, enjoying the switch in touch, the stimulation, the thick deepness of the invasion.

But then Parker was back, holding her hands, and Trig withdrew.

“Oh…please…fuck me,” she begged, twisting to look at him. “I want to come. I really want to come…”

“You will.” Trig flipped off the lid of the oil. “Not that you deserve to orgasm after your behavior. But trust me, you will…perhaps more than you want to.”

She stared at the oil and then at the glint in his eyes. What the heck did he have in mind? “What’s he going to do?” she asked Parker. “What does he mean?”

---