Ethan
Yeah, well, what do you want me to do? I was hungry, she was hungry, so we went to get some food. French fries to be specific.
I drive us there, while Ashley just sits in the passenger seat, kind of calm, relaxed. She seems real chill right now, which I can get behind. It's nice. I've always thought of her as kind of uptight and snooty, but not in a bad way. It's just the way she is, just like I'm the way I am. That's not going to change. There's no reason for it to change.
Right now she's just more... fuck if I know. She's got the window rolled down, the wind sweeping through her hair like we're driving along some country road, going camping for the weekend to get away from it all, just for a little bit. It's nice. It's how I like to feel all the time, but lately it's getting harder and harder. I can't explain that one; or, seriously, I don't want to explain it to you. This is my time, not yours.
I pull up to the place and park our ride. I borrowed one of my dad's nicer cars, but nothing too fancy. We're here for french fries and to hang out, not get gaped at by a bunch of annoying kids who want to ask all sorts of stupid questions about the car. I like cars, alright? Yeah, they're cool, and sometimes they're cool as fuck, but I'm busy right now.
I turn off the car and Ashley's just sitting there, not a care in the world. Yeah, that's probably my fault. It happens sometimes. After I give a girl explosive orgasms and amazing sex they sort of go into a daze. What can you do? I'm kind of proud of it, myself. Means I did it right.
I get out, close the door, and walk around to her side. I open her door for her and hold out my hand. Finally she snaps out of it, but just barely. She stares at me, wide-eyed and confused, then reaches for my hand. I help her up and out of the car, then close the door behind her.
"Did you just open the door for me?" she asks.
"Yeah?" I say. What the fuck is that look on her face for?
"I didn't know you did that kind of thing."
"What kind of thing are you referring to?" I ask.
"Um... the nice thing? Gentlemanly thing? I don't know."
"Listen, Princess, I know you have some preconceptions about me, and yeah, I know I'm kind of a dick, or an asshole, or whatever, but I'm not all bad. Sometimes a guy has to open a door for a lady, and this was one of those times."
She... well, what the fuck? She smiles and starts giggling. "Ethan Colton," she says, all sassy and sharp. "Did you just call me a lady?"
"Ashley Banks," I say, miming her sass with some of my own. "Apparently you don't realize you're classy as fuck."
"Nice," she says, rolling her eyes. "Real nice, Ethan."
"Yeah, I have a way with words," I say.
She smiles, then gives me a curtsey. Fuck, I love it. It's cute and classy, and it makes me hard. Yeah, maybe that's strange. I don't know. Every fucking thing she does seems to make me hard lately. It's like some pent up erection that's been building for...
I don't know. Awhile. Go away. I'm busy.
"Thank you," she says. "No one's ever opened a door for me like that before."
"Yeah, well, I figured you needed it," I say. "You've been kind of out of it after out little pool table session. Orgasms do that sometimes."
She blushes. Fuck, that's hot. Then she hits my shoulder, and looks all around. No one's here. It's just us in the parking lot. Even if someone saw us, so what? It's not like we're talking loud. No one can hear.
And if they heard us? I don't know. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Maybe it would. I'll figure it out later.
"Shhh," she says. "Ethan, I can't believe you said that."
I shrug, nonchalant. "Just teasing you, Princess. What's a brother for, right?"
She gives me another funny look, but this one is more confusing. What's she thinking? I think she's thinking about what I'm thinking and...
Yeah, she really doesn't want to know. What I'm thinking is what it'd be like to spin her around, rip down her pants, and fuck her right here and now over the hood of the car. Obviously I'm not going to do that. I'm not that barbaric. I'll wait until we're back home and parked in the garage. Not exactly the same, but it'll have to do.
"You want to go inside or just stand here chatting all day?" I ask.
The look fades. A little. She still looks at me weird, but she gives in and smiles, too. "Alright," she says.
We walk inside, seat ourselves at a booth, and wait for someone to come serve us.
I even opened the restaurant door for her, too. Thought I could get a blush out of her or something. Fuel this raging hard-on trapped in my pants, give me something to look forward to later. But, nah, she does something even worse.
No blushing, but she shakes her ass a little, giving me a show. Fuck, I can't do this. I can't fucking do this. I bite my lip to stop myself from doing anything out of line, but it's hard. It's real hard. Just a little... smack. How satisfying would that be?
I don't know if Ashley knows this, but there's two things I find irrevocably sexy in a woman. I already told her the first one: it's class. Ashley is not trashy by any means, and she never has been. No, she doesn't come from a rich family like mine, even though she's kind of stuck in one now, but she's always had this air of sophistication about her that I've...
Fuck you, I'm done with that shit.
The second one rhymes with class, and she just showed me that one, too. Not that I haven't noticed it before, but I've had to restrain myself, you know? Fuck, this is my sister now.
Stepsister. Is there a difference? Yeah, kind of, but barely.
Anyways, class and ass. Two very admirable and arousing attributes. They both make me hard. So fucking hard.
Why'd we go out to eat again? I wish we'd ordered in. I only have a week with her and I feel like I'm missing out. If my cock isn't buried deep inside her pussy, it's just a fucking waste.