Page 75 of Hey, Stepbro

Oh, God—this scenario is exactly like those dirty videos I've seen online where one stepbrother "helps" the other by fucking them.

My mind races with possibilities.

"I'd better fucking hurry," I curse under my breath, my heart pounding. The longer I'm stuck here, the more painfully aware I become of my nakedness and the throbbing erection that refuses to subside.

"Seriously?" I'm incredulous at my own clumsiness. I give a half-hearted chuckle, trying to find humor in the situation, but it's hard to laugh when your upper body is wedged inside a common household appliance.

"Think, genius." I will myself to calm down and focus. As much as I'd love to magically teleport out of here, I have to accept that I'll need help.

"Brock!" I relent, hoping he's still home. I know he had plans to hit the gym with Justin and Pablo, but maybe, just maybe, he hasn't left yet.

Stepbro will help. That's why I keep him around, after all.

"Please be home, please be home," I chant under my breath, my heart pounding in anticipation. What if he doesn't hear me? What if he's already gone? The thought makes me panic, and I struggle to keep those images at bay.

Right when I'm about to lose hope, the laundry room door bursts open, revealing a panting Brock. His eyes widen in surprise as he takes in the sight before him. "Blakely, are you okay?"

"Uh, yeah," I stammer, struggling to maintain my composure. "I'm just… stuck."

Brock grins devilishly, clearly amused by my predicament. "Well, this is a first. How did you even manage to get yourself in this situation?"

"Long story. Can you help me out, please? I feel like an idiot."

"Of course." As he reaches for me, my brain registers the way his biceps flex beneath his tight workout shirt. It's hard not to stare—and it certainly isn't helping with my arousal problem.

"Ready?" Brock grips my thighs firmly.

"Yep." I brace myself for the inevitable discomfort of being pulled free from the dryer.

"Okay, here we go." When he pulls, I let out a groan. This is not how I imagined my day going.

"Almost there. A little bit more..."

"Ow, ow, ow!" I yelp as Brock pulls me with all his strength.

It doesn’t work.

"Sorry about that." Brock tries to suppress another laugh. "I guess you’ve found a new home."

"Thanks for nothing," I groan, red-faced and embarrassed by the entire ordeal. Not to mention that my erection hasn't subsided at all—if anything, it's only gotten worse.

Brock cocks his head to one side, a playful glint in his eyes. "You know, it's a shame you look so damn hot while stuck like that."

"Knock it off." I'm sure I must look like a ripe tomato by now.

"Your ass is sticking straight up, and your dick looks pretty hard too, at least from what I can tell. I might be... tempted to help you in a different way, if you catch my drift."

"Ugh, Brock, seriously?" I whine, my cock throbbing even harder. "Can you help me find my missing sock and forget this whole thing ever happened?"

Brock’s still wearing that shit-eating grin. "I’ll help you find your sock, but first, I think I have another idea."

"Another idea?" I hesitate, both nervous and excited.

"Trust me. You won't regret it."

Brock drops down to his knees behind my exposed ass. My eyes widen in surprise when I realize what he's about to do.

Before I can say anything, Brock leans in and begins eating my asshole.

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