"Morning, sunshine." I adjust the collar of my baby blue polo shirt and run my hand through my hair.
Katherine stops, mid-motion as she leaves her room, her eyes running down the length of my body. "Are you wearing a polo shirt?" she asks. "It's pastel."
I can barely suppress my grin. "Well, it is a special occasion, isn't it?" I ask. "It's the kick-off of your father's campaign and all. The big family breakfast."
"It's pastel," she says, squinting at me. "You look..."
I interrupt her, even though part of me is curious whether she's about to say I look like a complete tool in the shirt. After standing outside her door last night though, and watching how flustered she got just talking to me, I highly doubt she thinks I look like anything except sex. "It's a family breakfast," I say. "I want to look appropriate."
"You have something planned," she says¸ turning to reach for her doorknob. "Crap, I forgot my purse. You better not have anything planned. If you say a thing..."
I step behind her and she freezes, her hand still on the doorknob. Leaning in close to her, my lips near her neck, I speak in her ear. "Are you worried I'll tell everyone how you make those little whimpering sounds when you come?"
She shies away from me, but I can still see the hairs on the back of her neck raised up, the goose bumps that dot the length of her skin. She might pretend she hates me, but she wants me.
Katherine spins around, facing me, her eyes wide. "I swear to all that is holy, if you say something about us during this breakfast, I will rip off your balls with my bare hands and stuff them in your mouth."
The way she looks right now, a wild animal with her nostrils flaring and her eyes large, makes me instantly hard. I push her up against the door frame, pulling her wrists above her head and pinning them there. "Us?" I ask. "I'm glad you admit there's an us, Kate."
"No," she protests, her voice low. "There is no us. There was no us. There never will be an us. We had sex once, Caulter. It's never going to happen again. I don't even think about it. Why don't you just leave it alone?"
She's cute when she lies. Her mouth is upturned toward me, her breath short, her chest rising and falling as she speaks. Her buttoned-down shirt is undone at the top, and I can see just the faintest hint of cleavage, her full breasts pressed together. If I hadn't already been thinking about the way her tits looked in the button down shirt she was wearing, I am now that she is arching her back the way she is now. "Sure you don't think about it, Princess," I say. "Tell me you haven't laid in bed at night, slid your fingers down the front of your panties, thinking about how I felt inside you."
"You say a fucking word about anything and you're dead, Caulter." My cock feels like it's going to fucking explode, straining against the front of my khakis, as I watch her get so incensed. I glance down the hallway. It's empty, the upstairs quiet. I hear my mother's voice somewhere downstairs. But no one is nearby.
"I like the way you can't stop talking about fucking when you're around me," I whisper.
"A driver is going to come for us any minute now," Katherine says, her voice breathy. But I don't think she's warning me as much as she's telling me how much time I have.
I think about sliding my hands under her ass, carrying her into her bedroom, and ripping off the slacks she's wearing, plunging my cock into her willing pussy, just like I did that night. I consider taking her on every surface of that bedroom of hers. I want to defile her again.
She whimpers, and the sound pushes me over the edge. I keep my hand firmly across her wrists and use the other hand to flick open the button of her pants. Never taking my eyes off hers, I slide my hand inside her panties.
“Caulter,” she whispers, her eyes going wider as I touch her wetness, using it as lubrication to roll my fingers over and over her clit.
“You’re wet.” I refuse to take my eyes off hers as I move my fingers in circles, watching as her eyelids fall lower and her breath becomes shorter. “You want me to touch you.”
“No.” She shakes her head and glances to the side, over the landing, in the direction of the downstairs, a look of panic crossing her face. “We shouldn't. We can’t.”
I ignore her. Instead, I slide my fingers down further and tease her entrance briefly. Her pants are in the way, and I drop my other hand down to yank them low over her hips. She emits a soft yelp of protest, but her hands stay firmly planted above her head, despite no longer being held there.
“My father,” she whispers. “Your mother. Someone will -”
If my mother or her father walked upstairs, they’d see Katherine with her pants around her hips, breathing heavily while I shoved my fingers down her panties. “You’re right,” I say softly, teasing her entrance again with the tip of my fingers. “Anyone could see. I shouldn’t let you come on my fingers, the way that you want to.”
“I don’t want to come on --” she starts to say, but I silence her, plunging my fingers inside her, quickly and without warning. Her eyes close lightly, and she brings her hands down to grip my shoulders. I stroke her slowly, on her most sensitive place, and I can feel her body give way like she’s slowly melting. Pressing my palm firmly against her clit, I continue to stroke her, and she grinds against my hand.
“No?” I whisper. “Tell me you don’t want to come on me.”
“Caulter,” she says softly.
“Yes, Princess.”
“Fucking...stop calling...me that.”
The way she gets her words mixed up, her voice breathy, makes me even more heated. I lean close to her ear. “Then stop acting like a princess,” I say.
Downstairs, a door opens and Senator Douchebag's voice rings out as he talks to a woman with a thick Boston accent. Katherine’s eyes fly open, and she looks at me, her expression anxious. But she still presses against my palm, and even though I pause momentarily, I resume again.
"Caulter," she warns.
I lean close to her, my mouth against hers, and take her bottom lip between my teeth. “Do you want to come?” I speak the words into her mouth.
“Someone….don’t….” Her pussy feels tight on my fingers as it grips them. I can't help but imagine my cock in its place.
“Say you want me to make you come, Kate,” I tell her. “Hurry. You have a minute before someone finds you.” As if on cue, the voices downstairs get louder, the woman giving directions like she's ordering around a couple of children.
“I don't...want...oh, Caulter,” her words come out in gasps. She’s so close, and her face is so filled with lust for me that what I do next is almost as much torture for me as it will be for her. But I'm going to enjoy torturing her, bringing her to the edge and then denying her. I slide my fingers from between her legs, watching as her expression changes from lusty to puzzled to furious.
“What are you doing?” she whispers. I touch my finger, slick with her juices, to her lips, and she wrinkles her face up in disgust. “Gross.”
"Button up your pants, Princess," I say. "You don't want mommy and daddy dearest to see you with your pants around your ass." I open my mouth and make a show of putting my fingers that were inside her, into my mouth, licking off every last bit of her juices. She watches me, wide-eyed.
“Shit.” Katherine rushes to button her pants, still staring at me. Downstairs, her father calls our names. “Coming!”
“Not anymore, you’re not, Princess,” I say, winking. “Unfortunately.”
“Shut up,” she barks, glaring at me. “Shit. Do I look like - you know?”
“Like your step-brother just had his fingers inside your pussy and you're about to go sit in front of a bunch of reporters and pretend to be a perfect little family?” I grin. “Yeah.”
Katherine’s eyes go as big as saucers. “Don’t be crude.”
“Because I used the word pussy, or step-brother?" I ask.
“Both.” She squirms. Her face is flushed, and the rosy red color on her cheeks matches the flush that peeks out from the fabric covering her chest. I'm pleased with my work, even if all the blood in my body is still in my cock.
"Didn't seem to bother you before," I say.
“Katherine!” her father calls.
“Just a minute!” She looks at me. “Well?”
“Well what?”
“Are you going to wash your hands before we go?” she asks through gritted teeth.
“I don’t think so,” I say, turning to start down the hall. I have to pull the polo shirt down, untucked, over the waistband of my khakis to even make a pretense at hiding the raging hard-on I have. At least there's no wet spot on the front of my pants. “I’d rather eat pussy for breakfast anyway.”
Katherine rushes forward and grabs my arm, jerking me toward her. “You’re going to smell like me,” she whispers. She’s so panicked-looking that it makes me laugh. “Go wash your fucking hands.”
“I would have washed my hands, before you started insisting on it,” I say. “But now I’d rather just bask in your scent during breakfast.” I make a dramatic show of bringing my fingers up to my nostrils, inhaling deeply. “It's better than the smell of coffee in the morning. If you want, tomorrow morning you could wake me up with the real thing in bed, you know. You could straddle my face, bring your bare pussy down to my --”
“I can’t believe you --” she interrupts, but I turn and walk down the stairs calmly, listening to her as she trails after me.
“Can’t believe I what, Katherine?” I ask, pausing at the top of the stairs for a moment, but she doesn't answer.
My mother and Senator Douchebag are downstairs waiting for us.
“Caulter Sterling." My mother greets me with a kiss on the cheek. She speaks softly, so that the Senator's entourage in the foyer can’t hear her. “I can’t believe you made such an effort. Thank you for not --”
“For what, mother?” I ask innocently, as she draws away from me. “For not embarrassing you? I can’t believe you think so poorly of me. I only want you to be happy, and if that means donning a polo shirt and khakis, well I guess that’s what I have to do.”
Ella narrows her eyes, but smiles immediately as the Senator walks up behind her and takes her arm. He looks at me, with an expression that’s as close to approval as I’ve seen from him. “Caulter. I’m pleased to see you looking so…”
“Normal?” I ask.
“Appropriate,” he says.
Katherine materializes at my side, and I glance at her out of the corner of my eye, only to have to try not to do an obvious double-take.
Shit, I have to force myself to keep from grabbing her perfect little ass; throwing her over my shoulder; and walking right the hell out the front door with her, in front of her father and his political cronies.
Somehow she found time in the last two minutes to ditch me and dash back to her room to change.
Into a dress.
Not just any dress. A white cotton sundress.
A white cotton sundress that skims over her curves, flows over her hips and comes to a seemingly appropriate knee length that sways with her every movement and is in no way fucking appropriate at all.
She's wearing a damn headband, for shit's sake.
“Oh, you look lovely, Katherine,” my mother says.
“Perfect,” the Senator agrees. Do they not see what I see? Katherine doesn't look the least bit lovely. She looks sexy. Sultry. Shit-hot.
“The car is waiting," the Senator says.
Katherine steps in front of me and tosses me a knowing look over her shoulder. Then she winks, innocent and seductive all at once.
She walks in front of me, the swaying of her hips causing the dress to swish back and forth, as she totters on conservative nude heels. The entire thing is so exceedingly appropriate that it has the exact opposite effect.
I want to bend her over in that dress and fuck her on the hood of the sedan.
A man in a suit holds open the car door as she climbs inside. He glances at her ass and it takes everything I have not to punch him in the face. I want to carry her inside and force her to put on the pants she was wearing before, the ones that covered every inch of those gorgeous legs.
When we're all settled in the car, Katherine and I on one side facing Ella and the Senator, Katherine pats my leg like I'm some kind of puppy. “See, dad?” she asks. “Caulter is even coming around, in his slacks and polo.”
I know her choice of phrase is no coincidence. I clear my throat and sit uncomfortably in the seat, trying not to think of cum while I'm sitting here in the car. I close my eyes and picture anything but Katherine naked, ignoring the compliment Senator Douchebag gives me about my conformity to his expectations.
I make my decision in the car.
I’m having fun screwing around with Katherine, but enough is enough. I’m going to have her.