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Out of Line: A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance by Juliana Conners (239)


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After Jane’s father leaves us, and we shut and lock the front door, I immediately ask Jane to show me to her bedroom.

She does, practically dragging me with her. It’s upstairs in what is an apartment all to herself, not just a bedroom. There is a kitchen, a bathroom, and living room the moment you get up the stairs. But Jane takes me to the door with her name on it near one corner of the big living area.

She opens it, and I’m immediately overwhelmed by the scent of strawberry. Of creamy, sugary shampoo and lotion. Her bedroom is as big and beautiful as she is. A princess’ mini castle in her father’s larger estate.

“My dad said for you to take care of me,” she says seriously. “So how exactly do you want to do that?” She twirls around with these words, the serious lines in her face a new kind of beauty to her already-gorgeous face.

At first, I’m not sure what I want her to do. All I know is that I want her naked, and I want her under my complete control again. Then I see the large canopy bed with four tall and sturdy posts. Yes, I think, eyeing the fluffy comforters and sea of pillows, this will all work nicely.

I bring my eyes back to Jane. “I want you to masturbate for me. Right on your obnoxiously-big bed.” I smile, watching flames of desire climb up from her throat to her cheeks. “And then I’m going to tie you to that obnoxiously-big bed and give you a good fucking.”

Jane waits eagerly for me to give her the command to strip.

I do, but I tell her to do it on the bed, not on the floor.

As fast as her legs can carry her, Jane climbs onto her bed and climbs out of her clothes.

When she’s naked on her bed, I ask her to kneel for me.

She does, and that’s when I give her the command to masturbate. “Put your fingers down there and get to work,” I say. “I want you nice and wet before I put my cock in you.”

Sexily, Jane brings a hand down past her flat stomach, curvy hips, and to her pussy. Once there, she immediately begins to finger herself. Touch and stroke her clit, lips, and hood. I watch her, completely transfixed for a few moments.

It’s only when she starts to moan, and I hear the telltale “sloshing” sound of her juices flowing, that I tell her exactly what I’m going to do to her. “I’m going to put your nipples in something again. Maybe those hairclips,” I say, bringing her eyes to the surface of her vanity, where I can see a few hairclips and barrettes.

Jane wiggles her fingers a little quicker, staring at the clips. I give her permission to pinch her nipples, and she does.

A beautifully sharp moan follows, and I tell her the next thing I have planned. “I’m gonna use those silk ribbons to tie you to the bed posts,” I say, bringing her attention to the ribbons she has stuffed behind the pull-away mirror on the vanity. “And then I might just decide to use that hairbrush as a paddle,” I add, seeing how much harder she’s rubbing now. Breathless pants spill from her lips.

“Are you going to spank me hard?” Jane’s voice is breezy. Barely there.

“I will if you come before I say you can,” I warn. “Do you want a spanking?”

When she touches for one second too long, I stroll over to her vanity and grab the hairbrush. It’s got a nice wide rectangular back. Perfect for punishments. I make my way over to the bed, and turn her over, before she can even get her hand all the way out of her pussy.

I swat her very hard once on her smooth, snowy-white ass. She cries out, but I can tell she likes it. The cry is almost too happy. It should deserve another swat, but I let it slide. Her hand is out of her pussy, so she’s back to behaving.

“Just for that, you’re gonna get tied up right now,” I say, flipping her over. I then bring her up to the pillow and headboard, before leaving to grab my ribbons of justice from her vanity. “And then you’re gonna get fucked in that greedy pussy of yours.” Saying these words, I’ve begun to tie her wrists to one post, then the other. I wander away from her again, grabbing the handful of hairpins I plan to use on her. “And you won’t get to come until I’m good and finished.” I choose the biggest, most flexible hairpins, and pin them on to her nipples.

Jane yips at the sensation but doesn’t pull away. I caress the bulged-out pink tips softly. “Good.” I then return to my job of tying her feet to the remaining two posts. Something I do quickly and efficiently, before unzipping the fly on my pants and revealing my hot and ready cock.

I climb up onto the mattress using the foot of the bed. I walk toward her on my knees, fishing for another condom. Thankfully, I find one more in the same back pocket I had the other. I take it out of its wrapping and put it on. I then slap her pussy and thighs with my rubber-coated dick.

Jane moans under this attention.

“Oh, you like that, do you, baby girl?” I ask, sliding two fingers in my mouth and loading them with saliva, “well, then you’re really going to love this.” I stick my fingers straight in her ass and pump. Jiggling as hard and fast as I can.

Jane gasps. Giggles with surprise and pleasure. And that’s when I reward her with another mouthful of goodness. Without pausing, or any plans to go slowly, I stick the length of my cock in her. It slides in like butter on a hot bagel. The silky heat of it, of her lips as they grip the base of me, is enough to make me gasp. And I never gasp.

“I’m gonna feed your pussy,” I say, covering up my gasp with some vigorous thrusts of my rod, “I’m gonna feed your pussy until you’re stuffed.” I press Jane’s feet into my sides, coming up closer to her so I can pound her more. Faster. Harder. So that my balls slap her right on her ass.

Jane growls. Groans. Grunts. Like I’ve just awakened a wild animal. “I love it when you stuff my pussy, Sir,” she says, looking right at me. Fiercely. Challenging. “Feed my greedy little pussy.” She squeals as I reach my fingers deeper into her ass, and then add a third and fourth finger. It’s more than I did before, but she seems to take it well. She just growls again and tosses her head back.

“Teach it good manners, Sir,” she adds, her voice like a streak of burning smoke.

“Oh, you bet I will,” I say.

I ramp up my speed even more, taking a moment to pinch and fondle a nipple with my free hand. She reacts to it, but she’s so taken by the rhythmic bouncing of her body, that she doesn’t realize where I’m touching. Just that I’m overwhelming her again.

And that’s the way I always want it. For us to overwhelm each other. To suffocate and drown in each other’s bodies and minds. As I think these thoughts, I feel fluids stirring. My balls contracting. In seconds, I feel a rush of warmth pooling at the base of my cock and sprinting for my head.

I press my free hand into Jane’s belly, and say, “Come, baby girl.” The moment I say “come,” I do

Wildly, and in a burst of color and warmth. I’ve had a lot of orgasms in my life, but never one like this. It literally takes my breath away. I’m left gasping and wheezing, the same as Jane, who’s just twisted herself up in some hot ribbons of pleasure.

I don’t know how long we float together in that space, but it doesn’t matter. All I’m aware is her body underneath mine. The sweet sweat and musk marking my face from her intense orgasm.

When we finally come out of our sex daze enough to think and function, I remember I have something else for her in my other back pocket. I pull it out for her, just as I finish untying her from the bed, and help her sit up.

“You said you never wanted to be without me ever again,” I say, allowing my voice to shake. I know there’s no way for me to hide it anyway. “You said you didn’t want to live life without me.”

Jane nods, eyeing the box, and before I’ve even opened it, I see tears waiting to fall.

“Well, then, Miss Jane,” I say, hoping I sound and look like a gentleman from a bygone era, “will you do me the honors” — I open the little velvet box to reveal a giant, shiny engagement ring — “will you make me the proudest, luckiest man alive by becoming my wife?”

“Yes!” Jane actually sobs this. “Yes, I will!”’

She jumps on top of me, smothering me with kisses before I can say or do anything else. Somehow though, I manage to get the ring on her finger. When she finally needs to come up for air after all that kissing, my new bride-to-be finally gets a good look at her new piece of jewelry.

“It’s beautiful,” she says, visibly shaking as she gazes at it.

“Well, a one-of-a-kind woman deserves a one-of-a-kind diamond, and that certainly is,” I say and lay down to cuddle with her. As I kiss her. Nuzzle myself into the crook of her neck, I know I can’t stay forever. But I want to make it last all the same.

 

 

***

 

 

 

Jane stands at the front door looking lonely already. And I haven’t even left yet. “I know you’ll probably be lonely, since your dad’s not going to be back until morning,” I say, feeling guilty, “but you have my number now.” I lean in to kiss her. “So, you can call me if you get lonely later tonight. Or you just want to chat.”

She gives me a brilliant smile, but it’s not enough to dim the sadness in her eyes. “Yeah.”

“I wish I could stay longer too, baby girl,” I say, walking carefully down the steps and toward the car I’ve parked haphazardly to one side of the roundabout, “but I don’t think your dad would take very well to coming home to me in your bed.”

Jane smiles nervously. “No,” she says, “he wouldn’t.”

I walk closer to my car, careful not to slip on the freshly fallen snow. “I promise we will go to the ski resort before they close for spring.” I open my car door and slip inside the driver’s seat, all without breaking eye contact. “And while we’re there, I promise we’ll be able to take our time. Spend as much time with each other as we like. We’ll do it properly, with all my fun little black bags to help out.” I waggle my eyebrows at her, knowing this will help take the sting out of our separation.

It does, as she finally looks like she’s not going to break down when I leave. Or come running after me.

I close the door on my car and buckle up. But I quickly put the keys in the ignition and roll down the window as she runs up to say something.

“It’d better be in time for Valentine’s Day,” she says. “Now that I have a boyfriend, I want to celebrate not being single.”

I laugh, giving her a kiss on the cheek through the window. “We’ll see,” I say, and take my foot off the brake.

From there, I make my way carefully around the circular driveway, and out onto the street. In the rearview mirror, I see Jane waving. Blowing me kisses.

God, am I glad I went on that skiing trip. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have her to spend the rest of my life with.

 

 

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Copyright © 2018 by Sierra Sparks and Juliana Conners; All Rights Reserved.
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Chapter 1 – Belinda

 

 

It was a great day for golf.  Sunny, mild, low winds and cold beers.  My friend, Franklin, always brought the beer.  Carl had joined us as well.

I used to think I had a thing for Carl.  He was young and sorta clueless, but every time he bent over to get a ball, I couldn’t help but admire his lean but chiseled physique. Now, though, he was kind of starting to wear on me. I was beginning to think he was too scrawny for my tastes. It must have just been my libido talking— I sure was horny these days.  

I thought I could do better than Carl, though.  I didn’t mean to brag, but I was one of those curvy girls who worked out every day for this ass.  I’d been compared to Reese Witherspoon— okay, people usually said something along the lines of “a chubby Reese Witherspoon,” but it still counted— and my buddy Franklin would phrase it as “an evil Reese Witherspoon.” 

I didn’t know about his “evil” comparison.  I always thought the original Reese Witherspoon was pretty evil already.  Ever see This Means War?  It takes a lot to make Tom Hardy look bad in a movie. And as for peoples’ “chubby” comparison— well, no matter how hard I worked out or how well I watched what I eat, I still seemed to have eternal baby chub. But that’s what I’d been told made me look so young and cute, so, I’d learned to love it. If that made me egotistical, I guess you’d have to find me guilty of that charge.

Franklin wasn’t too shabby for a guy in his 50’s.  I mean, he was bald with a soul patch, but he was attractive and fit for his age.  His ex was an idiot for divorcing him.  Franklin was a blast.  He drove the golf cart at top speed with one hand and a beer in the other.  How could you not admire that?

“All right, let’s start this back nine!” announced Franklin, skidding to a halt.  “We should hurry this along.  We could run out of beer!”

“Oh, the horror,” I added.  “Hand me another brewski, will you Carl?”

“Sure,” he said obediently.  “You guys sure drink a lot of beer when you golf.”

“You should try it,” I encouraged.  “Loosen up.  It’s a golf game.”

“Oh, no thanks,” Carl demurred.  “I read that sun and alcohol don’t mix.  Plus, I have to drive home later.”

Carl turned away and rifled through the cooler to find me a beer in the ice.  Franklin took the moment to mock him behind his back.  He pointed to Carl and then made a square with his fingers.

“Buddy, you gotta learn to live life,” said Franklin.  “Live every day off like it’s your last.”

“Oh, I might have to head to the office,” Carl admitted.  “I’m on call.”

“On call?  What are you?  A doctor?” said Franklin, sarcastically.  “I promise you that whatever those underlings attempt to get you to do today is just shit work no one else wants to figure out how to do themselves.”

“He’s right,” I agreed.  “Turn off your phone and pretend your battery died.  This is wise advice from an old man.”

“Hey!” objected Franklin.  “Don’t tee me off when I’m about to tee off.”

Franklin teed up a ball and then sliced the shit out of it trying to knock it down the fairway.  Carl’s phone rang and he stupidly answered.

“Oh, great,” he said, sounding really excited for someone who was answering a work call from the golf course.  “I’ll be there within the hour.”

Carl hung up. 

“Welp, gotta go,” he announced, not even trying to look sad about it. 

“You’re not even going to finish the game?” objected Franklin.  “That’s wrong, Carl.  Just wrong.”

“I’ll catch you guys next time,” said Carl grabbing his bag. “We have a new employee starting at the office today and that was my brother, saying she just got there. From her LinkedIn pic, she’s smoking hot. Gotta go see if reality matches up with the fantasy.”

I rolled my eyes. That was another thing I didn’t like about Carl: his cockiness.

“Let me drive you back to the clubhouse,” Franklin offered.  “Maybe we could get a drink before you go.”

“No, you guys finish the game,” assured Carl.  “No time for a drink.  See ya.”

Carl hefted his clubs on his rippling shoulders and started walking back to the clubhouse.  I used to imagine what it would be like to get manhandled by that clueless musclehead. But now I was over it. I watched him go any way, though.  Franklin laughed at me.

“Jesus, why don’t you just wear a sign that says, ‘Please fuck me, Carl’?” joked Franklin.  “Be a bit more subtle.”

“What is it with guys that young?” I lamented.  “Were you that oblivious?”
“Probably, but he is kinda young for you, let’s be honest.”

I teed up a ball and smacked it down the fairway.  I sliced it too, but not as bad as Franklin.

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” I admitted.  “Carl’s not my type in lots of ways. Not the least of which is that I usually go for older guys.”

“How old?” asked Franklin.  “I’m not that old.”

“You must be that drunk,” I kidded, hopping onto the golf cart.

Franklin started to drive us towards the balls.  We had teased each other about getting together, but it didn’t seem serious until now.  The two of us had great rapport.  I was finding it hard to think of a reason why I wouldn’t try and date Franklin, quite frankly.  Comparatively, Carl was kind of a moron in my eyes. I mean, I was sure he was right for someone— apparently, he hoped, his newest hire— but I’d decided that that someone wasn’t me.  Franklin, on the other hand, had his act together and he was pretty attractive.

“Come on, seriously,” said Franklin on the cart.  “It would be fun, you and me, going out.  We could always stop if it got weird.  Or if it didn’t get weird enough,” joked Franklin.

“Pff!  I don’t know, Franklin,” I teased.  “I’m not so sure you’d be able to keep up with me.  Remember, I’ve seen your golf game.”

“My last girlfriend was younger than you,” reminded Franklin.

“That was your wife and you were high school sweethearts,” I reminded him.

“Still true.  C’mon, let’s just have a drink.  Alcohol will solve everything,” he promised, eyeing up his shot.

“Fine, but we take this slow.  All I’m agreeing to is the drink,” I insisted.

Franklin hacked his ball out of the weeds and onto the green.

“See that?” said Franklin.  “My luck’s already changing.”

We finished the back nine and went up to the clubhouse.  Franklin’s buddies, Theo and Miles were there.  Theo was in his 30’s, kind of a smooth operator, but a bit of a workaholic.  He reminded me a bit of a white Jimmy Smits.  Miles was in his 40’s, but shot out of a cannon.  People said he should do stand up because he had an air of a class clown about him.  The drinks in the club house were margaritas.

“Belinda, did you lose weight?” asked Theo with a smile.  “Not that you would need to.”

“Well, she’d have to drop the two hundred pounds of shit sitting right next to me,” kidding Theo, referring to Franklin.  “Or is it, two twenty?”

“Screw you, Theo,” growled Franklin.  “I didn’t see you on the links today.  Still trying to find your putter?”

Theo had thrown his putter into the lake a few weeks ago.  The other guys never let him forget about it.  You know how guys are.  Always trash talking about this or that, even when they were friends.

Franklin was trying to press his luck with me, now that I opened the door to a possible romantic relationship.  I guess Theo and Miles must’ve sensed what was going on.  I got the distinct impression they upped their flirting game.  Guys.  So competitive, right?  But, hey, who doesn’t love the attention, right?

Still, Franklin and I were at least six beers and two margaritas deep.  Guess he forgot his friends were vying for my attention too, because he just suddenly made a move.

“Hey Belinda,” said Franklin.  “Carl and Clayton’s office is throwing this Christmas party.  You want to go with me?”

Normally, this wouldn’t be an issue, but he had added the words “with me” to that question.  That meant as a couple, clearly.  I wasn’t ready.  I flinched.

“Only if Theo and Miles can come,” I bantered back. 

Oh, God.  I was drunk.  Sorry, Franklin.  Fortunately, he was drunk too, so while he gave me a confused look, he agreed. 

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