If I had realized how hard I am, I probably wouldn’t have said a thing. But now she knows she can’t bolt after I caught her staring at me, so she walks out of the house and starts walking in my direction. Nearing the pool, she stops just a few feet away from me.
“I wasn’t…” she starts, stammering. Then her eyes find my cock and she looks like she’s about to choke. Fuck, not much I can do, is there? It’s not like I can will my cock into submission. My twelve-inches don’t always obey me, you know? My cock’s a wild beast.
“Oh, I know you weren’t staring,” I tell her, laying down again, “you don’t really stare at art. You appreciate it. And that’s what you were doing; you were appreciating me.”
Her face becomes even redder, and it looks like something might burst inside her cute head.
“Don’t be an idiot.” She places her hands on her hips, just like she did when I first saw her. Her lips are pursed, and I can tell she’s gritting her teeth by the way her jaw is tensed up; she’s making a real effort to avoid staring at my cock.
“Where are you going, anyway? You just got here.” I place my hands behind my head once more, flexing my pecs and letting the sun lap at my naked skin.
“I’m going out for a drink,” she announces, her voice flexing up as she says it. Her victorious tone tells me that I should be annoyed by the fact that she’s going out for a drink… But why?
“A drink? You don’t look like a drinker at all, ‘sis. I thought I was the specialist in this family.” I arch my eyebrows, looking at her, and she just flashes me a revealing smile: she isn’t exactly going out for a drink… She’s going out on a date.
“I’m going out with a friend,” she says in a suspicious tone. “I have a life, you know?” Yeah, right. According to my father, Kim’s just a few years away from turning into a workaholic. Alright, these weren’t his exact words, but that’s what I understood.
“Look at your stepsister, hardworking and responsible; you should try and learn from her”, my old man told me just a few weeks ago, disappointment in his voice.
Yeah, the way I live my life doesn’t exactly make him proud. I drink hard and I party hard (well, I fuck hard too), and that’s pretty much all I do. Sure, I amassed some money in the few investments I made during the years, but that doesn’t exactly make me a paragon of virtue. Besides, I’ve pretty much squandered most of my money by now; partying hard every single night takes a toll on both your liver and wallet.
“Look at you,” I tell her in a mocking tone, grinning, “such a big girl, going on dates already.” Her cheeks become flushed, so that’s really what she’s up to; she’s going on a date.
But it’s a bit weird, don’t you think? She just got to the Hamptons a few hours ago, and she’s already going on a date. With whom?
She takes a look at her tiny silvery wrist watch, and frowns. She must be running late already. “Well, don’t destroy the house while I’m not around,” she tells me flatly, regaining her composure, and then turns to leave.
“Wait,” I call after her, sitting up again. “Where are you going to? In case... “ Fuck, why am I even asking her this? “In case I need you.”
“I’m going to the Elephant Bar, but why would you need me, Cody?”
“Just in case I burn down the house,” I wink at her. I reach for my sunglasses, put them on and lay back. She just shakes her head in exasperation and finally leaves; I follow her with my eyes, unable to stop from staring at her ass. I could do so much than just stare...
When she’s finally out of sight and I hear the entrance door closing, I shut my eyes and try to push her to the back of my mind. But I can’t; she’s going on a date while I’m just lying here, and I don’t like that at all.
Why? Don’t ask me, because I have no idea. No, don’t start thinking that I hate the idea of her being with a man. She’s my stepsister, why would I even care about shit like that?
I’m just worried. She’s family after all, and you’re supposed to look after family. In the end, though, my thoughts sound like a lie; this isn’t just regular worry. There’s something else too, and I’m betting it has something to do with the way my cock is throbbing right now.
I told you: my twelve-inches can’t be tamed.
76
Kim
“It’s not a job for everyone, you know? You’ve got to be tough and smart… Just like me,” John says, and I nod quietly. He’s been going on and on about his job at Wall Street for what feels like an eternity. I’ve pretty much turned my brain off when he told me for the third time how special he was for working in finance. I get it, Mr. Important, you work in a suit all day, good for you.
“Tough and smart,” I repeat after him, and he just gives me a proud smirk. He really believes what he’s saying. It’s not just bragging or trying to look cool; he’s truly deluded.
He seemed like someone fun to meet, but I’m starting to regret saying yes to this train-wreck of a date. Even the pictures that Facebook removed that say “Attachment Unavailable” in my Dirty Lil’ Angels group are more interesting than he is.
To be honest, regret started bubbling up inside of me by the time he ordered his fifth beer. Then he drank a fe
w more and switched gears, hammering down a shot of whisky for each beer he ordered. The man’s on a rampage.
Now that he’s starting to slur his speech, I’m just looking for an easy way out. I’ve been here with him for three hours, so I think now’s the right time for me to make up some lame excuse and get out of Dodge. I left my brother alone at home, and the house might be on fire by now, I think of saying, but then settle for something tamer.
“John, I had fun today--” I start, but he cuts me off in a heartbeat.