Four.

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Tilly

I am asleep for what must be three hours at the very most. When I’m woken, firstly by the noise of Marvin shuffling slowly across the living room floor, and then secondly and unequivocally by the sound of him vomiting fiercely into the toilet bowl, I’m lifted out of a dream about Landon. I’m at one of his games, amongst all of the technical staff at the edge of the field, cheering him on from the sidelines. There is nothing that indicates it, but I know we are married. The whole world knows it too - Landon and I have become a famous couple in the unexplainable confines of dream reality - and not only does the whole world know who we are, they approve of our union. They like us. They know it makes sense that we are together, despite the differences in our personalities and the fact that we are step siblings. We are a power couple.

I try as much as I can to get back to it, not only because I need the sleep anyway, but because I was actually really enjoying myself for once, but when Mom clicks on the light without a second thought, and the real Landon comes out of his bedroom in nothing but his boxer shorts to see what’s going on, I know my chance has passed. It’s not a sexual dream unfortunately, far from it actually, but it’s so vivid, that when I see Landon standing there at the foot of my bed, I can’t help but think for a passing moment that he’s about to get on into it.

It takes me a while to shake the sleep from my body and gather myself to what’s going on. It’s the middle of the night and Marvin’s condition has clearly not improved. If anything, it’s worsened.

I count three fierce bouts of vomiting, each one more violent than the one that precedes it, after which he returns to the living room shuffling in his inimitable way, takes refuge in his favorite arm chair and looks like he’s about to die. I’m not kidding, this is serious, Marvin looks so pale we can almost see all the way through him.

I sit up. I can’t stand up quite yet because I’ve slept in my panties, and I know they are probably wet.

“Mom?”

Mom looks concerned.

“Does anyone else feel sick?”

I shake my head sincerely, while Landon is too busy keeping an eye on his dad to respond. For a guy that smiles more than Cam Newton, it seems weird to see him looking so worried.

“We’ve got to take him to the hospital.”

Is it wrong of me to be looking at Landon’s ass right now? I mean, this is clearly a hugely inappropriate moment to take advantage of a crisis situation, but it is such a fantastic ass I can hardly help myself. The other side is clearly pretty incredible too, but everyone knows how much attention that part of The Donkey gets. So much so, in fact, that people forget about how good the reverse side is too.

Marvin is just about managing to wave his arm in negation to the idea.

“That’s not necessary. I just need-.”

He’s too far gone to be able to finish his sentence. The large breaths he has to take in between his words demonstrate the difficulties he’s having in communicating. Something clearly isn’t right. I’ve not seen him like this before, and if this is food poisoning it’s definitely much more serious than I’ve ever seen. This isn’t just a bit of an upset tummy, this is full on projectile vomiting, clammy skin and losing comprehension. Landon is right. See? This is what being in the middle of nowhere does to your health. This is what happens when you don’t have a cell phone signal. I’m just glad it’s not me, or that infuriatingly sexy stepbrother of mine.

“I think we’ve got to take him to the hospital. Can you drive him, Landon?”

“No, hospital”, Marvin manages to groan out.

What the hell is it with men and hospitals? My real dad was the same. Never went to the doctors unless he was literally on death’s bed, and even then he had to be forced to go. Marvin isn’t exactly an alpha male, but in this respect he’s demonstrating it. He refused all types of medication last night, even though he was clearly in pain, he’s woken up at one am to be sick again and he’s trying to convince himself it will pass. Maybe it will, but it’ll pass a lot quicker if he knows how to treat it.

“Where is the nearest hospital?”

“I think I’m going to be sick again.”

“I have no idea.”

“You see, if we had an internet connection, or a cell phone signal, we could find out.”

“That’s not helping, Tilly.”

“I’ll take him back towards the city, it shouldn’t be too long before we pick up a signal out that way.”

Mom gets Marvin a bucket, into which he retches but doesn’t puke. This is absolutely disgusting. How can I go from dream of a lifetime, which might be the best moment so far of the vacation, to nightmare reality, which is clearly the worst, in less than a heartbeat? How can I go through another night without getting a decent night’s sleep?

Poor Marvin. Maybe it would have been better if it had been Landon. I wouldn’t have minded seeing him knocked down a peg or two, and it might have made the vacation a little easier to get through without having to go through such a constant emotional roller coaster. I don’t think I would have liked seeing him puke though. The only good thing about this happening is that it might mean we get to head back to the city a lot earlier than I’d previously thought. If Marvin is out of action, how can we carry on the big family vacation without a stepdad?

Landon goes back to his room to get dressed, which gives me a quick window of opportunity to pull on my sweatpants and see just how bad Marvin is. I get him a glass of water which he barely wets his lips with, and check his temperature. He’s burning up and his skin feels so clammy he could have just come out of the shower. My expert analysis: get him to a doctor as soon as possible.

“I really just need-.”

Again Marvin can’t finish his sentence.

Mom packs a little bag while Landon gets the car ready. I feel completely useless watching all of this happen, still half asleep, not entirely sure if there is anything I can do to be more helpful.

“Will you be alright here?”

Great. First in the middle of nowhere with my brand new family, now in the middle of nowhere on my own. At least I might be able to get some sleep in I suppose.

“How long will you be?”

“I don’t know, it depends where the hospital is.”

“Is he going to be alright? He looks awful.”

“I hope so, darling. It’s not like Marvin to be sick. I expect it’s just food poisoning, but you never know. It’s good to get these things checked out. I expect it’s nothing.”

She may expect it’s nothing but she doesn’t look all that convinced. I’ve seen Mom worried before, and I don’t like it.

Marvin is still trying to resist while Landon lifts him out of the chair and carries him towards the car.

“Drive safely”, I say, but Landon is far too preoccupied to respond to me. He doesn’t even say something funny or ironic or tell me to make sure I get the breakfast ready for when they get back, or the jacuzzi, or pump up every single one of his footballs so he can put me at the end of the garden and aim them at me. I wouldn’t even mind that, but all he does it make sure his dad is strapped into the front seat, before he gets in behind the wheel himself. No goodbye kiss, no i’ll be back to be with you soon, no nothing. Not even after that dream I had.

“Don’t wait up for us”, Mom says, before kissing me and jumping into the back seat of Landon’s posh looking 4x4. A minute later they’ve disappeared into the darkness of the night, and I’m left on my own.

This whole thing has happened so fast. From Marvin waking me up to Landon getting them all into the car, no more than thirty minutes could have passed by. It feels weird. It feels absolutely unreal, and even more so because I’m lacking sleep so much. What I need is a day and a half of sleep without waking up, and if I dream about Landon again, that asshole, even better.

It’s one forty seven am. I shut the door, head back into the living room, flop down on the sofa that is usually Landon’s domain and realize with slowly dawning horror that I am completely trapped until someone comes back to rescue me. We are at least an hour’s walk from the main road, and, yeah, there may be a car here, but I don’t know how to drive. Even if I did get to the highway, there’s no telling how long it would take for me to find civilization and it’s likely I’d just die on the way from exhaustion anyway. What happens if I suddenly start getting sick and need Landon to nurse me better? What happens if I begin puking my guts up and need rapid extraction?

Seriously. They could have taken me with them. I mean, what exactly is it I need to look after here anyway? It’s nice of them to not want to worry me, but if this is the beginning of an outbreak, they might have just signed my death warrant.

I’m exaggerating, of course. I hate hospitals as much as Marvin probably does, and I should probably just go back to bed and forget about it, but I’m wide awake now and too worried about what might be happening to Marvin to do so. Plus my bed is an absolute atrocity. It’s obviously the reason I haven’t been sleeping well. Just looking at it gives me a headache.

While he’s out, and is likely to be out for some time, I decide to drag my mattress back into Landon’s bedroom, only I don’t put it back on the bed frame I took it from. In a moment of ingenious clarity, I lay it on top of Landon’s bed, thus creating a mattress of luxurious double thickness. Landon’s bed smells of him and being here makes me feel incredibly naughty. I shouldn’t be here, but because of that it’s turning me on.

My intention is to spend a couple of hours here and then drag my mattress back into the living room before he has a chance to get back. I could just put it back on the other bed and sleep there, but I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing I’ve given in and come grovelling back to the room in his absence. A couple of hours of incredible sleep in this double strength mattress amongst Landon’s sweet and sexy aroma is going to be worth two whole nights under the dining table.

It doesn’t take long before I’m feeling sleepy again. Protected by my growing confidence - if I’m going to be back in my own room before they come back, what does it matter? - I decide to remove my sweatpants.

A small, skin tight T-shirt to cover my tits, which, by the way, are anything but tiny, through which I can feel my nipples budding the more I think about him, and panties, just panties and certainly not granny panties. The rest is Landon. He was here only an hour ago and the duvet is still warm from his body heat. I pull it up to my neck, wrap it around my body and imagine that he’s here with me.

It isn’t much longer before I feel sleep tugging at me like a heavy weight, my fingers already dipped below the waistband of my panties and pressed snugly in against my pussy.

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Landon

I have never seen Dad like this. I have to say I was deep into one hell of a surprising dream when the old man decided to mess things up for me and pull me right out of it. I guess that’s just pay back for the years I did the same when I was a baby. At least he didn’t puke on me. He got close to puking in the car, but at that point there was nothing left but salt and air. He’d even stopped complaining about where we were taking him.

It took thirty minutes to get a signal for the GPS, another hour or so to get him to the hospital, which isn’t so much a hospital anyway as some kind of emergency clinic out in the middle of nowhere, in a town with a name I can’t even pronounce. It’s so provincial, they don’t even recognize me here. We might as well be in another country.

They’ve got Dad on a drip inside just to get his fluids back up, while Rachel and I wait for news of what it is that’s happening. The doctors don’t seem all that concerned, but they don’t seem to know much about what it is that’s wrong with him either.

I was tempted to take him directly to a better hospital back in the city, but Rachel wanted to have someone see him straight away, so it made sense to come here. If it gets serious, I’ll have him relocated, but until we know more, we can’t really do anything but leave him here and wait.

Dad never gets sick, so I don’t reckon it’s going to be anything serious anyway. When they sort out his dehydration and get the test results back I reckon they’ll just tell us it’s either something he ate or because he spent too much time in the backyard under the sun.

He’s already embarrassed that we’ve brought him here, thinking he’s doing nothing else but wasting people’s time, so he’ll probably be mortified when we find out it’s nothing more than that. I’m looking forward to seeing the look on his pasty green face.

Rachel seems to be pretty concerned, so I try my best to make her feel better by telling her stuff that she probably won’t already know about Dad, and I think it works. I knew Dad was in love with this woman, but up until now I hadn’t realized how much Rachel was in love with him. It’s funny how it takes some kind of mini crisis to realize that. I think it’s the look you can’t avoid giving when you think about what might happen if that person wasn’t around any more.

That obviously isn’t going to happen, and I make sure she knows that. Dad is too much of a pain in the ass to have something so innocuous be all that serious for him.

When I’ve dealt with Rachel’s concerns, and we have nothing left to do but wait, I go over that dream again and again, trying to restore it back to its perfection, trying to make sure I never forget it. It’s already losing its glossy sheen, and in the event that nothing like that happens again, either in the dream world or for real, I don’t want to forget it completely.

The way that she looked at me, the deepness of the emotion that I felt when she did, or because she did, the way I could almost taste her. Shit man, that’s scary and beautiful all at the same time, and I cannot begin to explain what it does to my dick. Real life has sometimes never seemed as clear as that, and I would do absolutely anything in my power to experience it again.

I even try to get back to that same dream right there in the hospital, my head rested into my sweater and propped up against the wall. I swear I’m halfway there too, when the doctor picks that moment to come out to give us an update.

“What does more tests mean exactly?”

I can tell by the tone of her voice that Rachel is skeptical.

“We just want to keep him in today and possibly tonight for observation, that’s all.”

“Observation?”

“Exactly.”

“Looking for what exactly?”

“Well I’m afraid that’s something we don’t know at the moment. That’s why we are doing the tests.”

Rachel is not convinced and nor am I. It all seems a little vague to me. Dad’s sleeping so we can’t ask his opinion, but as far as I’m concerned, if he needs to stay in anywhere, I want it to be somewhere that has a reputation, a proper department and some of the best medical staff the country can offer. Even if it’s only a bout of food poisoning, I’m happy to pay for it. I can probably even get this covered on my insurance plan, but even if I can’t, money’s no issue to me. We only came here in the first place because it was quick, and now we know that Dad’s condition isn’t immediately life threatening, we can decide to move him elsewhere if we want to.

It’s almost day break. I’ve had a couple of hours sleep at the very most, and I can feel sleep dragging me back down. The last thing I want to do is drive into New York, but I also don’t feel all that comfortable about leaving him here. Whatever happens here, someone will have to go back and pick up Tilly, or at least tell her what’s going on. Whatever we decide to do with Dad, Rachel doesn’t want to leave him on his own.

“You go back, I’ll stay here with Marvin until we know what’s going on. I don’t want you to have your vacation ruined because of something silly.”

“It’s your vacation much more than it is mine, Rachel. What about getting him to a better hospital?”

“I’m not sure if that’s necessary, plus it might be bad to move him.”

“I can get a private ambulance to take you both to a hospital in the city with the best doctors in America. They probably don’t know what the hell they are doing here, and they might even be waiting for the good doctors to come on shift. It’s not exactly overrun.”

“And what happens to you and the rest of the vacation?”

“I’ll head back and pick up Tilly, and we can decide what to do when you find out about Dad. We can always do it another time.”

“There’s no reason why you and Tilly can’t stay there yourselves anyway.”

Tilly and I, on our own, in the middle of nowhere. Why is this kind of temptation put in front of me, with my career on the line, if I can’t hold myself back?

“Nor any reason why you can’t rejoin us when you find out what’s going on.”

You know, save me from myself, or catch your daughter and your step-son fucking. Whichever suits you.

“I am worried about him you know.”

“Me too. I’d feel more comfortable knowing he was somewhere serious as well.”

“How long do you think it would take to arrange a private ambulance?”

“Less time than for them to find out what it is they are running tests for.”

Rachel agrees it’s the best thing to do and I call my insurance company to arrange it. If the vacation is over, that’s fine by me. I can head back home and forget all about that sexual tension I can’t avoid with Tilly. If Tilly decides otherwise, however, I may have a complication on my hands. Two crises in one week, may be more than I can handle. And here I am trying to stay out of the newspapers.

The ambulance arrives within an hour of calling it, much quicker than either of us expect. The doctors are neither surprised, nor terribly bothered to see their recently arrived patient disappear, perhaps even relieved that they no longer have to perform their pantheon of random tests.

Dad is sort of semi-lucid as they load him in, conscious of what’s going on, but unable to respond to it. Rachel gets up alongside him, ready with a barrage of questions to fire at the new medical staff.

They take his pulse, check his vital signs, change his drip and tell us both not to worry. Already I feel a thousand times more reassured.

“You can call me when you know. I’ll drive out to get a signal, and check the cell every few hours or so.”

“Tell Tilly not to worry. Hopefully we’ll be back soon.”

“I’m sure you will.”

I watch the ambulance disappear out of the car park before it melts into the landscape of forest and hills that occupies the space between the hospital and the highway beyond.

I did not expect that at all, four days into our vacation. Arguments? Yes. Boredom? Check. Driving your dad to a hospital in the middle of nowhere and then watching him get taken away in a private ambulance to another? Definitely not.

When I get back to my car, my mind wanders back to Tilly. We are going to be alone, just her and me, for at least a day, maybe more. In the middle of nowhere, no cameras, no paparazzi, just Tilly, myself, the jacuzzi, sexual tension, sexy red panties and a huge dick that gets hard when I do little more than just stand next to her.

This is going to be interesting. Fuck, it could even be defining.

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Landon

I can’t think of anything else at all on the drive back up to the house. I’m back in the dream and then I’m adding to it with what I want to do to her when I get back, and then I interrupt myself with thoughts of the possible consequences, coach stormy faced with that morning’s newspaper in front of him, the headline in bold print: The Donkey and his stepsister.

I imagine a career of watching other, less impressive players from the sidelines, well known sports personalities lamenting a wasted gift for a senseless act of passion, the inevitable downward spiral afterwards, and then I’m back again in that dream, in the fantasy that it becomes, Tilly and I wrapped in each other’s arms, that butt working hard to please me, her perfection driving me absolutely insane.

I’ve never found temptation easy to resist, and anyone who knows me will tell you I’m a sucker for a good looking girl. If such a thing existed, I’d tell you I had an addictive personality. I wonder if it’s because I’ve just spent my life searching for the right thing.

It’s not normal for me to be indecisive either, but obviously there is a lot at stake. My fucking career for one, my family for two. Both of those things are the most important things in my life. There is also one other major problem I’m overlooking somewhat, and that’s the fact that Tilly is my step-sister. I know enough about her already to know she wants it - I knew that from day one - I just don’t know enough about her to tell whether she’s got the balls to let it happen or not. Or whether I’ve got the balls to make it.

It has to be the lack of sleep, because there is no way I’d be over thinking something like this unless it really was serious, or I just wasn’t in the right frame of mind. Maybe Dad getting ill has bugged me out more than I thought it had. Maybe one month without getting laid is making my senses all wonky. What I really should do is drive back to the cottage, pack my bag, get Tilly in the car and take her home, but I know I’m not going to do that, and the reason I’m not going to do that is because I like taking risks and I just can’t help wanting to see where this goes. I can’t not look into Pandora’s box. Fuck, it’s going to be the death of me, I know it. It’s going to end my fucking career and I’m driving straight for it like the arrogant prick I’ve always been, always thinking with the wrong head.

I should just masturbate and get it over with. I should find a high class escort and pay for her silence. I should forget all about Tilly and what she’s doing to me, but I can’t. I feel like an addict in need of a fix, and the more I think about the possibility of what could happen, the more excited I get about it too.

I’m nervous, like I got before my first big game, the first time something mattered to me. I step out on that field now with chills down my spine, but I’m calm inside because I know I own it, right now, I’m not convinced of anything, and it’s making me feel uneasy.

It’s just coming up to nine when I pull up at the house. Tilly might already be awake, she might already be sunning herself on the decking, tanning those perfect legs of hers, or even better, braving a morning jacuzzi bath expecting to spend the day alone.

My heart is beating much faster than it should be, and before I head inside, I take a deep breath to calm myself, trying my best to focus on what is likely to be the biggest challenge so far of my career, resisting the flesh of my step-sister.

When I see her bed has been cleared up from the lounge, I automatically expect to find her either on the decking already or down at the bottom of the garden with her book.

She’s not in either of those two places, and disappointingly, she’s not in the jacuzzi either. I’m about to call her name, when I decide to get changed first, catch up on my own sleep and try and see if a) I can return to that dream world Tilly in absence of the real thing and b) work out if lack of sleep is fucking with my perspective, because considering ruining a whole career over one girl is definitely not something I should even be entertaining right now.

I don’t see her right away. The light is off and the drapes are pulled across so the only light seeping in I’ve brought with me from the living room. I don’t expect to see her either, so I’m not exactly looking, but there she is, as clear as day, my step-sister, semi-naked, fast asleep, in my bed.

Her sweatpants are bunched up and on the floor below, but I would have known she wasn’t wearing them anyway because of the posture she likes to sleep in. It’s the same as that very first night, only the panties are different this time. One leg outside the duvet curled across it, one hand tucked up underneath her cheek, the rest of her tucked up inside.

I can’t believe it. I’m out for less than half a day and Tilly’s not only commandeered my bed, she’s lying it it like she owns it. I have to smile, not only because the picture I’m presented with is incredible, even in the milky half light’s grainy resolution, but mostly because the last thing I need is it presented to me on a plate.

This is like putting a chocolate cake in front of someone with a weight problem, or leaving a gambling addict in the middle of a casino. Or worst still, breaking into the house of someone with an addiction problem, going to their bedroom, their own personal, private space, and leaving exactly what they can’t have there for them to try and build up the courage to leave alone.

Believe me, I’m trying to build up the courage, but this is doubly hard because Tilly’s somehow still asleep. I should do the decent thing and leave her be, but to be honest, I should have done that the moment I opened the door and realized she was lying there. I’m still here, looking at the curve of her back, that perfect ass that shines like a moon caught behind a muggy filter of cloud on a dark night, the way her hair falls across the pillow, and I’m thinking not about leaving her alone, I’m thinking about getting into bed next to her and giving her exactly what she wants but is too afraid to ask for.

I’ve got to do something soon because my dick is getting hard imagining it. If she suddenly wakes up, and I’m stood here erect, standing over her like a pervert, it’s not going to go down too well.

I decide to wake her up. Fuck it. That’s reasonable isn’t it? I’ve had about an hour’s sleep all night, and it isn’t unreasonable to imagine I might need more. Tilly must have passed the ten hour mark. It might not be the reason I want to do it, but it’s the reason I’ll give her when it’s done.

I’m not going to wake her up like any normal person would either. I’m going to give her some payback for thinking she can sneak in here, sleep in my bed and not give a damn if I catch her. Maybe she planned on bumming back to the living room before morning, or that I wasn’t going to come back at all, or maybe I’m reading the whole thing wrong and she’s done this because she wants me to find her here.

I have a sudden feeling that she might not even be asleep at all, and have to get close to her just to make sure she still is. I round the bed, taking in the fullness of her body as I do so, unable to avoid it actually, because the light that comes off her I use to guide my path, put my face close to hers and make sure she’s not awake and about to punk me. It would be a hell of a set-up and I’d give it up to her hands down, but that’s not what’s about to happen. I can’t help but think that Tilly’s missed a trick. She could have got her own back for the way I woke her up the other morning, and I would have hated it but respected her for it too. Maybe she does want the Landon Maddox alarm bell after all. The wake me up slow and sweet method, and don’t stop going until I’ve come all the way up.

I used to date a chick who liked me to do that, and the way she screamed in the morning because of it made the whole house shake.

I’m not going to do that with Tilly, even though I reckon she’d appreciate it. Despite what all the newspapers say, I may be an ass, but I’m a gentleman first and foremost. I like to pull a chair out for a girl before she sits down, and I like to get consent before I make an assumption.

The last thing I need is a headline of that story. Maybe I can do that tomorrow depending on how she reacts to what I’m about to do to her now. Maybe she’ll just agree that the best thing for everyone is to head back to New York and I can forget all about the good and disastrous things that could happen if not, like getting my dick wet, falling for my sexy-assed step sister, and being sold to a basement club and frozen out of the league. Damn, temptation is a bitch, and making the right decisions, always a burden.

I wouldn’t be in this situation if every one of those girls was as honest as I am. I’ve never sold a story, cheated on someone, gone behind their back or ratted them out in my life. It’s not like my performance off the field has an effect on it either. If anything it’s the other way round. I’m tempted to let the coach see that without sex I just don’t perform as well. If I wasn’t throwing the yardage he’s come to expect from me he’d soon come back round to my way of thinking. Bad headlines don’t sink a club, but everyone knows that bad results do.

It’s a simple equation as well. You get laid, you feel happy, you throw well. I went seven games without being touched by an opposition player last season. I’m not talking sacks, I’m talking being touched in live play by a member of the opposite team. They don’t record stats like that because they don’t know how to measure them, but I know. Seven whole games without being touched, and it wasn’t because of the offensive line either, it’s because I do two things better than anyone else on this planet. I play ball and I please women, and one helps the other exponentially. That seven game run? One girl that ended up dropping me when it began to get serious, and selling her story for half a million dollars on how I was a kinky pervert in the bedroom. Me. Half of the shit we did because she asked for it. I’m not going to say I didn’t enjoy it, but none of the stuff she attributed to me was even my idea. Her lies yet everyone believed it. You see the kind of thing I have to contend with on a daily basis? If you’re in the spotlight, and you get with the wrong girl, your personal life and your private life can’t help but get crossed over. Looking at this fine sliver of perfection in front of me now, I can’t help but wonder if I’m going to fall into the same trap.

“Tilly.”

My voice is nothing but a whisper.

“Tilly”, I say again, this time sweeping her hair away from her face.

Nothing. She doesn’t even stir. Careful not to nudge her, or inadvertently step on her arm or leg, or chest, I mount the bed, my legs either side of hers, my crotch rested against the turn of her hip.

“Tilly.”

I start rolling my knees forwards into the softness of the mattress, gentle enough not to disturb her, but strong enough to create a kind of wave across the bed that lifts the pillow slightly and her head with it. She sighs, or breathes heavily, I can’t work out which, but it’s the first indication she’s coming to.

“Landon.”

I swear she says it without thinking, like it’s coming from her subconscious, because when she says it, it’s not a question, or even a recognition of me being there, it’s just a word, like it would have come out of her anyway, whether I was here or not. Landon. My name, hot on her lips, too fucking hot to stay inside her.

It doesn’t last long because a moment later she really is awake and she’s fighting to push me off her.

“What the fuck?”

I resist for a moment, and then I dismount, both my step-sister and the bed, to stand alongside it.

“What the fuck, Landon, are you fucking kidding me? What the hell are you doing in here?”

“Chill out, Tilly, this is my room remember. What are you doing in here, in my bed, naked?”

“I’m not naked.”

It amuses me that she feels the need to cover herself up now that I’ve mentioned it. She’s not naked - it would have been interesting if she was - but I say it like that because I know the exaggeration will cheese her off.

“And I was sleeping. What the fuck were you doing?”

“In my bed?”

“Yes, in your bed.” There is a pause before she qualifies it. “I was tired.”

I don’t mention there is a perfectly good bed with her name on in right next to this one, but I don’t need to either. If she hadn’t given me her reason, I would have been able to see it now anyway, written all over her face. She’s been rumbled, and she knows it too. Tilly’s in my bed because she wants to be. It’s as simple as that.

“It’s time to get up”, I say. “Don’t feel like you have to get dressed though, I like that T-shirt on you.”

Tilly’s eyes dip to her chest, which she covers immediately with the duvet when she notices her nipples pushing bobbles into the fabric. It makes me chuckle seeing how prudish she is with her body.

“Good dream?”

“Fucking hell, Landon.”

I know she would prefer me to leave to make this less awkward for her, but I’m not going anywhere. For a moment we just eyeball each other, while we wait for the other person to make a move. Tilly finally gives in with a grunted exclamation of frustrated anger.

“You didn’t have to wake me up.”

I watch her gather the duvet up so it covers her body, pick her sweatpants up off the floor as gracefully as she can without revealing herself, and barge past me into the living room, her back exposed and the blanket cinched around her like the thing was a modern dress and this was her attempt at some kind of weird new fashion trend. I lean against the door frame casually, happy to observe her.

In her haste, it takes a moment for her to realize there are a couple of us missing. She gives a kind of token look around for them, before something dawns on her. I can’t tell whether it’s concern for my father’s health, or concern that we are now alone, for an as yet indiscernible period of time. She pauses her one handed search for clothes and stands up, urgently.

“Where are Mom and Marvin?”

“Hospital.”

“What do you mean hospital. Why aren’t they here?”

“They don’t know what’s wrong with Dad.”

Tilly pauses for a beat. She’s mad, but this supersedes that, and I know she doesn’t want to be impolite.

“Fuck, is he ok?”

“They don’t know. We took him to some weird place in the middle of nowhere that didn’t even have vending machines in the corridor. I mean, what kind of hospital doesn’t have vending machines in the corridor? Anyway, they didn’t know what was wrong with him. They wanted to do tests, but they didn’t know what they were looking for, so I got a private ambulance to take him to New York.”

“New York?”

“You should have seen them in this place, Tilly. They didn’t even know what they were supposed to be doing with him.”

“So where’s Mom?”

I think Tilly already knows the answer to that question, but she’s being coy.

“Rachel refused to leave his side, so she’s gone with him.”

“Mom’s gone to New York?”

I nod.

“Is your dad ok?”

“He’s fine. It’s probably just heat stroke or dehydration or food poisoning or something that’s going to make him feel stupid for being weak.”

“Right.” There is a slight hesitation before she continues, perhaps as the reality of the situation begins to drip into her. “So what are we supposed to do?”

There are several ways I can think of answering that question, none of which would be immediately appropriate.

“Wait here for news.”

“Alone?”

“Together.”

“Without them though?”

“Yes.”

“Until when?”

“Until we hear.”

“You and me.”

“In the middle of nowhere.”

“In the middle of nowhere.”

I nod.

“Fuck.”

I can’t tell you how much I wish that was a question, nor how much Tilly probably does either.

––––––––

Tilly

We can’t stay here. Not alone or together or whatever it is, we just can’t. It’s not that I don’t trust him either, it’s that I don’t trust myself. We are literally in the middle of nowhere and we are alone. Nobody can see us. Nobody can hear us. There’s probably not even a single thing alive in a half mile radius. The dead bird at the bottom of the garden is about as close as we’ll get. It’s a recipe for disaster, the perfect setting for something to happen. Something that I am bound to regret.

This is Landon fucking Maddox. This is the man that has been filling my scrapbooks and my teenage fantasies for as long as I realized they were even a thing. This is the number one prize douchebag that is on every other billboard poster across the country. This is The Donkey, my fucking stepbrother now too, and here I am alone with him. If I don’t do something about it, I’ll end up doing something I shouldn’t. The last thing I need is my own stepbrother to fuck me and then fuck me over. Way to fuck up the new family, Tilly.

No, I’m not going to let that happen. Even if he finally shows his cards, I’m not going to show mine. I’m not going to be that relief fuck that gets dumped all over when reality sets back in, when Shoreville are back on a winning streak and the coach gives Landon free reign, or when he just heads back to the city after this little vacation break is over and puts himself back into a situation where he’s surrounded by it.

I’m not going to devalue myself like that, or stress myself out by competing with what he’s used to getting, and part of me just doesn’t want to anyway so Landon doesn’t get his way. No matter how good he says he is, or they say he is, or I expect he is, I’m just not going to do it. Perfect ass, incredible arms, huge cock or not. Definitely not. Uhuh. Not this girl. Not for a minute. It’s not going to work with me.

“We have to go home.”

“What do you mean we have to go home?”

“Home, New York, you to yours me to mine. Home.”

“I don’t think we need to do that. Your Mom said we should stay here. Besides which, we have to wait for news. We can’t just go back to New York because you can’t stand to be in the same room as me. Dad might be fine later on, and if he is, he’s going to want to come back.”

“So we just stay here?”

Landon can’t hide his delight that the possibility of that happening is making me agitated. He’s enjoying watching me squirm.

“We just stay here, or we go to that bar, or we go for a walk, or we sit naked in the jacuzzi, or whatever, we stay here. Haven’t you always wanted to be alone with a superstar?”

Yes, since, like, whenever, and no, absolutely one hundred percent not, because I know what you are like. I know just what Landon Maddox is like, and I bet he’s loving this situation even more than he’s letting on.

“You tell me when that happens and I’ll show you how excited I get.”

“You know there are a thousand women-.”

“Yeah, you already told me that.”

“Why do you hate me so much, Tilly?”

Um, let me think. Is it the natural talent that oozes out of you or your almost God like perfection that annoys me the most? Is it because you demand to be the centre of attention, the arrogance that masks deep seated abandonment issues, or the fact that you think you’re just better than everyone else, period? Or is it really the fact that I hate you because you make me not want to, and I really, really should, for everyone’s benefit?

“I don’t hate you, Landon. I-. It doesn’t matter.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

There is a gap of space between us that I wish I knew how to close.

“It doesn’t matter, you know. What you think matters, it doesn’t.”

There goes that subtext again.

“And what is it that you think I think matters?”

“The way you feel, what you do about it, the way I do.”

“I thought you didn’t feel, I thought you just did.”

“Don’t believe everything you read in the papers.”

“And it does matter, I thought you would have learned that by now, based on the situation you’ve found yourself in.”

“Yeah, that. Well I suppose without it, I wouldn’t be here, so maybe it’s fate after all.”

“Is that what you think this is? The same fate that made you my stepbrother.”

“I guess you have to take the good with the bad.”

“And what about the impossible?”

“That’s not for us to decide.”

I’m not even sure if we are having it, but if we are, this is already way too serious a conversation to be indulging in right now.

“What are you scared of?”

Mice, heights and having my heart broken. Making a fool of myself. Selling myself too cheaply, to Landon fucking Maddox. What people think. Being thrown away when I’ve been played with enough. Being The Donkey’s last fuck. I’m scared of being wrong about you.

I realize I’m not saying anything. I think I’m trying, but nothing’s coming out.

“I’m not some big bad wolf, Tilly. I’m not the person you think I am.”

“What do you want, Landon?”

“I don’t know.”

Why is he so damn confident and blase about this? Why are we even having this conversation?

“I like you.”

“You seem to like every girl that crosses your path. Isn’t a skirt and a pulse the only criteria Landon Maddox needs? After that it’s win win for you, right? And you don’t like me, you just think you do.”

“That’s funny.”

“Besides which, if you are asking me what I think you are asking me, or telling me, or whatever, you may not have realized it yet, but you and I are step siblings.”

“So what?”

“Step siblings don’t fuck each other!”

Did I just say that out loud?

“You’ve obviously never been to Kansas.”

“Landon, I’m serious.”

“You need to chill out, Tilly. Let your hair down.”

And let you get close, you mean? Let you get inside me and then let you get away like it means nothing? Let you break my heart?

“I am chilled out.”

“You don’t look it. You look nervous.”

“Not everyone wants to get naked and jump in the jacuzzi.”

“Not everyone wants to admit it, you mean. I did find you in my bed, after all.”

“That was different.”

“Yeah, I know, you were tired, right?”

Tired, horny, confused, whatever you want to call it.

“I wasn’t naked, and I wasn’t doing it to get you excited.”

“No?”

“No!”

“What if I was to get naked right now?”

“Are you that desperate for attention?”

“Impossible situations call for extreme measures.”

“You think getting naked in front of me is going to make me admit that I want you, is that it?”

“Do you want me?”

Yes. Here, over the couch, up against the wall in the bedroom, out on the decking, rolling around on the hot grass in the garden, across the table, deep and unprotected, I want you.

I laugh nervously, and realize, again, that I’m not saying anything.

“The world’s not going to end, Tilly, you know.”

Please don’t take your shirt off, that’s the last thing I need.

“What about your career? You’d risk never playing football again, just because you can’t keep your dick in your pants? Just because you’re horny?”

I shouldn’t be looking at it, but I’m caressing it with my eyes. That perfect abdomen caught like a framed picture between the open sleeves of a recently unbuttoned shirt. I want it close to me, pressed against my belly, and I want to follow those lines with my fingertips.

“You don’t look like the kind of girl that kisses and tells.”

“That lack of judgment has got you into trouble before.”

“I don’t think you’d risk breaking up the family then.”

His shirt is now a crumpled mess on the floor, and I’m looking at the square shoulders of a perfect athlete. He can tell I’m looking and he knows what he’s doing to me. I’m aware I’m not telling him to stop either.

“More importantly, why would I risk the disappointment?”

Landon smiles at that. Cocky men are impossible to undermine and Landon is about the best definition you’ll get of that word. I don’t move when he closes the gap between us, nor when he’s standing so close I have to crane my neck to look up to him. I’m trapped against the wall now, and from here, it would be so easy to reach out and pull him into me.

“I come with a guarantee of perfection.”

I have to laugh a little at that. I expect I’m not the first girl he’s used that line on, and I probably won’t be the last.

“Oh, yeah? And how long does that last? A day, or two. Wait, what was it, I think three months was about your longest wasn’t it?”

“You tell me. For a girl that pretends she’s not interested, you seem to know a hell of a lot about me.”

“I read papers. Most intelligent people do.”

“You know what I think?”

“I know you’re going to tell me.”

“I think you’re worried you’ll get addicted.”

Addicted? To those bulging biceps, that incredible muscle definition. Wait, that huge, delicious cock. Impossible.

“I’m worried you’re making a mistake, that’s all.”

“Then let me make it. I told you, Tilly. You’ve got to let your hair down a little bit and chill out. I know you want me, it’s written all over your face. The trouble is, you just don’t want to admit it.”

Is this it? Is this where I confess and let him take me? Is this the beginning of the downward spiral or has the ball already begun to roll?

“You just don’t want to admit that there are some girls that you just can’t have.”

“There are a billion girls I can’t have, and a billion more I don’t want, you’re just not one of them.”

“I don’t think that’s for you to decide.”

“You want me to carry on getting undressed so I can prove it to you?”

Heart racing? Check. Moral compass set to explode? Check. About to make a decision I will regret later? Undoubtedly. Horny? Off the fucking scale.

“I don’t think that’s going to be necessary.”

“I’m sorry, Tilly, you’re going to have to repeat that.”

“I said-.”

Am I doing this? Yes. It appears as though I am very much doing this.

“Fuck it. Kiss me.”

I’m telling Landon Maddox to kiss me. I’m telling my stepbrother, the notorious womanizer who, due to an above average sized penis, is lovingly referred to as The Donkey, to kiss me. Alright, a massive penis. I’m risking everything. I’m showing my cards and I’m putting the ball firmly into his court. Let’s see if he has the balls to do the same, and please, God, don’t tell me this is a wind up.

“I’m sorry, did you just ask me-?”

“Do it now, I’m not going to ask you again.”

This could either be the worst decision I’ve ever made, or the best. I could be crying into my pillow in the next minute or screaming into it.

“Nah, I don’t think-.”

Landon pushes himself away from the wall and there is a horrible moment that passes before I realize that he’s winding me up. Before I can get out of his trap, kick him in the balls for being a dick, or get the words out in anger, he pushes me back against the wall so I’m basically pinned against it, and then leans in to give me the best kiss I’ve ever had in my life. I mean, seriously. I never thought it possible that a kiss - that is lips pressed against lips and tongues touching each other in the moist heat of a pair of mouths - could be so good, but Christ alive, this kiss is like heaven.

When Landon pulls away, neither too soon nor after too long, I stand there for a moment just staring up at him.

“Kiss”, I say, my tongue licking the sweet numbness at the edge of my mouth. “That was a kiss.”

I sound like I’m in shock, which I kind of am, both with my decision to ask for it, and the result of the action itself. Slowly, the realization dawns on me. Not only that I’ve kissed Landon Maddox, and the world hasn’t exploded, but that I’ve kissed Landon Maddox, and I know I’m not going to be able to stop myself asking for more.

This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen.

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

“You asked for it.”

“I shouldn’t have asked for it.”

“What else shouldn’t you ask for?”

“No.”

“That’s not a something, Tilly.”

“We’re step siblings.”

Landon shakes his head. “That’s not a reasonable argument now.”

“Mom and Dad will be home soon.”

“You’re in denial.”

“Your career will be over if your coach finds out.”

Not only is Landon now pressed up against me, I’m the one that’s pulled him there.

“Then let’s make sure he doesn’t.”

“I’m running out of reasons.”

“Then stop looking for them.”

“We can’t.”

“We are.”

“Kiss me.”

What’s the worst that can happen? Three days of mindblowing sex and then nothing. People recover from broken hearts, right? What if Mom were to find out? I’ve never heard her views on taboo relationships, but in every other aspect of her life she’s fairly liberal. Maybe she’d adjust. Maybe the whole world would. Am I cheapening myself? Am I just serving his already inflated ego? I suppose at least now I know he likes me, or likes me enough to want to fuck me, I might as well enjoy the fantasy while it lasts, even if it doesn’t continue. He’s played his cards after all, I might as well see how cocky he really is.

––––––––

Landon

Well, what’s a guy supposed to do, especially when she asks so nicely? Less than an hour and she’s practically throwing herself at me, and all I had to do was remove my shirt and pin her against the wall.

I know I probably shouldn’t, but probably shouldn’t is such a turn on. They’ll probably write that on my headstone. Here lies Landon Maddox, the man that probably shouldn’t have. The rest can be filled it with all the shit that’s got me in trouble over the years.

Tilly. Am I just horny because I haven’t had even a sniff of it for longer than I can remember or is there actually something special about this girl, I can’t help but find irresistible? I guess I’m about to find out.

She is pretty, there’s no denying that. She’s also got one hell of a body, not that she bothers to show it. I like that. I like that she’s normal, and modest, and naturally attractive. You see all these girls in the modelling industry that plaster on make up by the bucketload and underneath it all they are as ugly as sin. Tilly isn’t like that. First thing in the morning, last thing at night, she looks absolutely fantastic, even when she hasn’t slept and she’s chewing her face up complaining I’m taking up more space on the couch than I should.

Well, she certainly isn’t doing that now. I’m going to make her screw her face up, but she definitely won’t be complaining about it.

I know I’m playing with fire, but there is no way I can hold on any longer, especially now we’ve kissed. Tilly’s got no chance either. That was her last stand against it, and right now, anything goes. I’m going to make sure we both take advantage before either one of our parents gets back or Tilly has a freakout.

If coach finds out about what I’m doing, my ass is as good as sold, so I kind of hope Tilly doesn’t do anything stupid. I’m obviously risking a lot here, but if the story gets out about us, we both stand to be affected. I can’t imagine Tilly would want her mother to know just how naughty her only daughter has been. Plus, I’m the one who’s being seduced anyway. Tilly told me to kiss her, Tilly pulled me into her, she’s the one that’s led me into our bedroom and even if I wanted to, there was no way she’d let me avoid it.

“Are you always this forward with men?”

“Only the ones I dislike.”

“I knew you hated me.”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.”

Tilly smoothes her hands across my chest and down to my belly, daring herself to dip them even lower beyond the waistband of my pants. My cock is throbbing against the fabric, and I know she wants to see it. She’s sat on the edge of the bed while I’m stood by the side of it, the double mattress raising her up to the perfect height. Tilly guides her eyes from my cock up to my own, as though asking for my permission.

“Take a look, Tilly. It’s better than the magazines.”

Now she dares herself to run her fingers along the edge of it, tracing the form the bulge makes in my pants.

“It may be big, but do you know how to use it?”

“Why don’t we find out?”

“I’m not that easy.”

With a deft flick of the wrist, which makes me think she’s much more experienced than she looks, she has my pants open.

“Good. I like a challenge.”

With hungry eyes, and a pose that puts her close enough to kiss me if she wanted to, she eases my pants down towards my ankles and then sits up on the bed when she’s done, her legs spread so her dress falls open enough that I can see her panties, her head tilted to the side to admire me, reflected perfectly in the strap that has slipped over her shoulder to reveal the upper half of her breast.

“Are you going to show me how much?”

“I will if you take your clothes off.”

“I thought you were the one that wanted to get naked, and besides which, I already told you I’m not that easy.”

They are neither the red panties nor the ones she was wearing this morning, but it doesn’t matter either way. I want to admire her in them and tear them off her in equal measure. I want to show her what she doesn’t what to allow herself to admit to wanting.

“I’m waiting.”

She’d wait all day too, and she knows I know it. I’m the one that isn’t able to resist. Usually I get girls demanding it from me, not the other way round. If I walked out of here, chances are she wouldn’t chase me, but I’m not going to do that anyway. I’m going to give her what she’s asking for, because in doing so I get what I want. I’m going to make her unable to resist me because at the moment I feel like she’s doing everything in her power and succeeding in making me unable to resist her.

I’ve had a lot of girls in my life, and a lot of sex, but little experience that compares to this one. Tilly is my step-sister, and I know there is a good chance we shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be doing this anyway because I’m sworn off it, but there is something about her that just makes it impossible for me not to. It could be the way she looks, or the way she’s sitting, or the fact I shouldn’t, or the fact she wants it but won’t admit to it, or that I’m falling deeper than I ever have before, or for all of those reasons and others that I can’t even comprehend, but whatever is happening, it’s happening right now, to both of us, and there is no way we can avoid it even if we wanted to.

“Alright, you asked for it.”

Tilly bites her lip. She holds her breath and I watch her pupils dilate. As I lock both thumbs into my waistband and peel my boxer shorts slowly over my rock hard dick, she can’t help but squeal with excitement.

––––––––

Tilly

I can’t believe this is happening, but it is. Oh my Christ it is. I know I have my hand over my mouth, and I know my eyes are as big as dinner plates. It is the biggest dick I have ever seen. The magazines didn’t lie, the column inches didn’t underestimate it, Landon Maddox is seriously well hung. Only it’s not hanging right now, it’s pulsing, like it has its own heartbeat.

I think I’m gurgling with excitement. It could be a squeal and it could be a mating call. Whatever it is, I’m horny, and I want that thing inside me so quickly, I don’t have enough time to regret it.

“Well?”

My eyes go from his dick across his chest and up to his face. He’s smiling proudly, but why wouldn’t you? One of the most talented, most beautiful, most arrogant men in the world just had to be given a huge dong, didn’t he?

“Yes.”

My answer makes no sense, but I’m not really responding to the question he’s just put to me, more the question he’s been putting to me for the last four days. Yes. I agree. I can’t resist anymore. I want you. It. I want that inside me.

“You can do more than just look at it if you want.”

I nod.

“And when you’re done, you can show me yours.”

If you had told me a year ago, before Mom met Marvin, before they got married and before Landon became my stepbrother, that he would be stood at the edge of my bed, not only naked but hard enough to push a hole in the wall if he wanted to, close enough for me to reach out and pull him towards me, to place the head of his cock in my mouth and for me to roll my tongue over it, to taste him and pleasure him and allow myself to do anything I wanted, I would have looked at you like you were crazy.

I dreamt about all of those things, and I still do. I masturbate to fantasies of this exact scenario and now here I am, with him, alone, together, whatever you want to call it and I can no longer hold myself back, regardless of the consequences.

Suddenly energized, I jolt myself out of stun mode and edge towards the treasure. A moment later, I’m pressing Landon’s swollen crown against the roof of my mouth with a spade shaped tongue.

The Donkey. This is the man that has stolen the hearts of a thousand women, and here he is in a position of complete and utter sensitivity, at my behest and in my complete control. I rake his cock against my teeth, just to remind him that I can, if I want to, inflict both pleasure and pain. He likes it, of course, so I do it again, biting down gently on his tumescent meat, mostly because I can’t resist it.

I am one of those girls who could orgasm sucking cock. I read about them from time to time in glossy magazines and on forums and websites. It’s never happened, but not because I can’t do it, more because I’ve never sucked a good enough cock to allow it. Landon has all the qualities to make it happen and while I work his cock in and out of my mouth, my tongue licking and flicking and teasing and testing his secret zones of utter sensitivity, I feel tingles climb through my skin and my pussy pulse in greedy desire.

I look up to see Landon watching. This must be the ultimate fantasy for men, but it’s pretty good from my end too. He has his hands on his hips, but I wouldn’t mind at all if he put them on my head, pulled my hair a little bit or pushed me down onto his cock. I guess he’s playing the gentleman, keen not to push his luck too much, or ruin what he’s obviously worked hard to achieve in the first place.

I slap him against my tongue, run him against my lips until they vibrate so much they are itchy, and swallow him as deeply as I can manage, which feels deep to me, but turns out not to be all that deep at all.

His moans tell me exactly what he likes me doing, and the more that I do it, the more turned on we both get.

Landon finally moves one hand from his hip to run through my hair. He traces the vein down the side of my neck and then runs his fingertips over the top of my clavicle. When he gets to the strap of my dress, he flicks it casually across my shoulder.

“Take it off”, he orders.

I take his cock out of my mouth and look up to him with wide eyes. I give him several flirty flicks of my eyelashes and smile. Still holding him I bite my neck and then squeeze, hard, just to test his resistance, to channel my energy momentarily. Landon buckles forward and pushes me with him into the bed.

He’s coming for me, and the hunger I can see in his eyes tells me he’s not going to stop.

“I said, take it off.”

There is a zip at the back, but he’s not going to use it.

“You take it off.”

Strong arms push my legs wide at the inner thigh. I feel a tug while he gathers up a handful of fabric and lifts it up, across my belly, up to my chest. I’m still biting my lip, wondering how he’s going to de-robe me, enjoying every second of this battle to break me out of my clothes, like a young boy might a Christmas toy out of its sparkly wrapping.

I refuse to lift my arms up to help him, because I love the attention he’s giving me. It doesn’t stop him for long. I’m twisted, turned, tickled, manipulated, caressed and cajoled into giving myself over to him, and when Landon has achieved what he came over here to do, the dress is nothing but a pile of fabric at the bottom of the bed, the present now firmly in his grasp.

Rough hands sweep over my body, testing the sensitivity of my smooth and delicate skin. Talented fingers of precision that dance their way from one rib to the next, pirouetting expertly around the bra I have worn especially to please him, never thinking I’d ever get the chance, up over my neck, where they brave a squeeze momentarily and I secretly desire more, out across my shoulders, down my arms to tickle my inner elbow and eventually back again, across and around my belly button, the waistband to the panties I’ve selected carefully for the moment I never thought would come and onwards, teasingly, telling me everything we both now know about exactly what it is we want.

Much like the dress before it, my bra and my panties are soon nothing but inert objects, gathered at the end of the bed like discarded sections of torn Christmas present wrapping.

Landon takes a moment to appreciate his gift, while I lie there in the bed before him, conscious of my nakedness, aware that I am baring myself to him, not just physically, but emotionally too.

“You look fucking amazing.”

“I bet that’s what you tell all of your step-sisters.”

Landon kisses. Landon caresses. Landon massages and explores and teases and touches. I am extremely horny, and even before he touches me with either the tips of his fingers or the flat edge of his tongue, I know I will not be able to stop him making me come.

‘The best fuck I’ve ever had’ was one of the comments I read in the gossip column of a glossy throwaway magazine, some super-rich, big titted TV celebrity that had somehow won him over. Definitely not his finest moment, even if the comments were true. The best fuck I ever had. I don’t doubt it.

He’s more considerate than I imagined he would be, less selfish with his demands. I’d imagined being made to feel like a slut, not a princess, forced into having an orgasm - enjoying it exponentially - but taken there under his control. I don’t know how to describe this, but it’s not the lowered panties bathroom fuck or the stolen quickie in the front seat of a car. That may come later, and I hope it does, but that doesn’t mean I want it now. Each moment requires sex to match it, and it’s the real lovers who know the importance of that.

With my knees up high, the tips of my feet the only part of them still attached to the bed, and my thighs clamped around Landon’s ears, I know the importance of that. His tongue isn’t quite as big as his cock, but it’s deft and agile and thick enough to please me in parts not even his fingers can reach.

I could go on like this, melt into an explosive series of orgasms while Landon laps at me like a stray cat might lick at milk seeping from a broken bottle, but I need something more too, I need him to push me that little bit higher still.

I drag him away from me, even though he doesn’t want to come initially, not until he realizes what will naturally follow. I want him inside me and I’m not afraid to admit it. I want Landon Maddox and I’m not going to stop until I get him. I’m too far gone now to turn back. I’ve made my decision. I’m naked, wet, on the edge of a climax and The Donkey is here, prone, erect, ready to take me there.

Landon obviously has a condom in his wallet. I wonder for a moment if he’s brought it on the off chance, just in case a situation like this might arise, and I find him impossible to resist, or even throw myself at him at the first opportunity.

I expect more resistance to its application, more of a push to make me do it bareback, but he’s the one that suggests its use in the first place, perhaps softened by a previous experience, or terrified of the possible consequences. Imagine if Landon and I had a baby. There would be no hiding that from the family or the owners of his beloved football team.

I have little experience of sex, and fewer still of condoms. I would prefer not to use them at all, but if there has to be a barrier between us, better that it’s a thin layer of rubber than the fact that we are actually step siblings.

I wonder if he’s forgotten about it too, or just doesn’t think it’s even that important, which I guess in the grand scheme of things it isn’t really. We’re not related, so it’s not a problem in that respect, the only issue that might arise is whether we continue along this magical path.

It seems right to begin like this. Landon takes control now. He rolls the rubber over his cock, trapping the flesh inside the membrane, and then shuffles towards me, our distant future now protected, our immediate future ready to be made.

I expect it to hurt. I expect what I’ve experienced before, which is to say, a passionless volley of humps and thrusts culminating in pain and feelings of immediate remorse. It is neither of those things.

Landon, in complete betrayal of his personality, is soft, gentle, deferent and appeasing. He is sexy and masculine and absolutely erotic all at the same time, and I’m not entirely sure how he manages to juggle both.

I watch muscles tense across his neck and chest as he moves into position. With gentle but insistent nudges of his knees, he eases my thighs open, before nimbly placing his cock head at the entrance to my tender hole. With one hand at the base of his cock, the other holding me open, he slides himself purposefully inside me, pushing as deep as he can go in one unbroken movement.

I can’t help but explode in a stream of lustful moans, thinking at one moment he may have actually already made me come. Landon pulls out casually, the length of his cock significant enough that even at a distance that suggests he should be outside of me, he isn’t.

“Again?”

“Fuck, yes, again.”

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist me.”

He goes even deeper this time, so deep I have to arch my back up towards him like a hedonistic cat.

On his backswing, I level my eyes at him.

“Who said anything about me resisting you?”

Again he comes for me, this time so deep I feel his balls squash against me.

“Right. So I’ll stop then shall I?”

I have to compose myself before I can reply.

“You can stop when you’ve made me come.”

“That’s why I like you, Tilly. You’re funny.”

I fold myself into it, but there is no escape anyway, Landon is all over me. His cock pushing every single button I think I have, his hands on my thighs, or on my tits, or on my neck pulling me into him, his balls riding up against me, his God like perfection wherever I look.

We change position several times, and I do my best in each one to hang on, to not let myself go too soon, to deny Landon the pleasure of knowing he’s doing what he is to me, but I can only cope with so much, and Landon is, after all, in his words and several others, the best fuck I’ve ever had.

It is better than I could have imagined. Better than I dreamed it would be too. Landon is a man of superlatives, as much as I hate to admit it to myself, and would never admit to him, he is a God amongst men.

I didn’t even know it could feel this good. I didn’t even know there were parts on my body that created sensations within me like the ones he seems to be able to make me experience with little other than a twist of his body, a carefully placed hand, or a kiss where I least expect it.

I come, multiple times. I come so much I can’t remember when it begins. I am on top of him rolling my hips forwards and jerking him up inside me, I’m in front of him, facing away, his hands gripping my hips tightly as he drives his way inside me, never brutally and never without care, and I’m by his side when he comes, both of us facing each other, my leg swept across his body, tucked into the gap between his ribs and his hip bone.

We lay like that for a long time, neither one of us knowing quite what to say. We’ve done it. We’ve been unable to resist, and now we need to face the consequences. What happens from here on, I have no idea.

“Jacuzzi?”

I have to laugh. “What is it with you and that jacuzzi?!”

“What’s there not to like? A hot tub full of water in the middle of nowhere with views out over the rolling hills.”

“I didn’t think you liked rolling hills.”

“I can appreciate a good view, Tilly.”

I wonder if this is what it’s going to be like between us always. Incredible sex and good humored banter. Or whether this is a one of. Whether after today, now that he’s got his release, Landon will just forget about me and move onto the next big thing. Part of me doesn’t want to even think about it. If that was the first and the last, I want to hold on to the sensation as long as possible.

“By the way, if we can’t get a cell phone signal, how are they meant to contact us?”

“Hopefully they won’t.”

I can’t tell if he’s playing around or not.

“I’ll have to drive out to somewhere I can pick one up. At any rate, they won’t be coming back tonight, unless Dad makes a miracle recovery. In all honesty, I doubt they’ll bother.”

“How on earth are we going to cope?”

“Look, Tilly, I know you’re used to getting your meals cooked for you, but don’t worry, I’ve lived alone for a while, so I know how to survive.”

“Ass-hole, I know how to cook.”

“I guess we could be here alone for a few days at least. We’ll have to make sure we’ve got enough supplies.”

“Mom brought a whole load of food, way too much probably. I wouldn’t worry about that.”

“Oh, I wasn’t talking about food, I was talking about condoms. That pack of three isn’t going to last us long at all.”

“I guess we’ll just have to manage without. You know, heavy petting and nothing else.”

The look Landon gives me is priceless.

“Let’s see how long you last like that.”

“I bet I can last longer than you.”

“You didn’t even last an hour.”

“I was worried we’d miss our opportunity.”

“And here I was thinking you were just using me.”

I’m the first to get up. I’m hungry, I want to shower, and I don’t want Landon thinking he owns me. Ok, we fucked, it was incredible, I wanted to do it, I want to do it again, but I’m not going to make it easy for him. If Landon wants me, he’s got to earn it at every turn. He’s got to prove he’s serious.

“Admit it.”

I’m at the door, my modesty covered up by his shirt.

“Admit what?”

“Admit that was the best fuck you’ve ever had.”

I laugh. “That wasn’t the best fuck I’ve ever had.”

“You’re lying, I can see it in your face.”

“If that was the best fuck I’ve ever had, what would be the point in doing it anymore? Is that what you were planning to achieve?”

I’m out of the room before I give him a chance to respond, but not before I see him chewing it over.

I’ve just made Landon Maddox mine, and I’m going to try as hard as I can to make it stay that way.

They say he isn’t for keeps, well maybe it’s just that they don’t know how to handle him. Maybe I don’t know either, but I’m going to give it a damn good go.

Even if it doesn’t work, I’ll always have that. The best damn fuck I’ve ever had.

––––––––

Landon

Well, that worked out way better than I expected. I knew Tilly was going to be dynamite in the sack, I just didn’t realize how good. She covers herself up a lot during the day, even when she’s supposed to be out sunbathing on the decking, so I had no idea just how gorgeous she would be under all of those different threads, but man, that body is mind blowing.

She knows how to fool around too. She gives the impression she’s totally innocent, but based on that performance, I wouldn’t be so sure. One long term boyfriend maybe, but she doesn’t get that technique by holding out. Tilly obviously knows how to please her men, and this one is very pleased right now.

Convincing her to do it in the first place took less than an hour, which was way less time than I was expecting, although maybe the previous three days was what she needed to make up her mind. I’ve got to hand it to my dad, fingers crossed everything’s alright, but without his dramatic exit, I doubt we would have ever got a chance to do it at all.

The next series of questions I’ve got to ask myself is:

1. How long before we do it again?
2. Should we do it again?
3. Am I going to be able to resist?

Tilly is one dangerous girl, and I think she knows it much more than she lets on. I’m not an idiot, I know what usually happens between men and woman - I’ve had enough experience to work it out after all.

There is a power shift that you can’t avoid where women can’t resist their men, right up until the men are the ones that can’t go without what the women provide for them. I’ve got to make sure that never happens with Tilly and I, because I’d never be able to wipe that smug grin off her face if she knew that I really liked her.

This game is already dangerous enough for me to not need added emotional weight to it, and then I know what I’m like. If Tilly and I are here for the rest of the week, alone, with the prospect of sex that good, with the way I already feel about her, I’m going to fall hard.

With that in mind, I wonder if maybe it’s best we don’t stay here at all.

Yeah, like that’s going to happen. When have I ever been able to resist sex? Besides which, I have to stay here under orders from the coach. If I break the promise I gave him and head back to the city, even if the situation is an urgent one, he’s not going to be impressed at all. If I show him I’m making changes and I’m revising my attitude and I’m getting myself set for the coming season, he’ll be so delighted, he might even give me a pay rise.

As long as he doesn’t find out I’m fucking my step-sister that is.

“Shower’s free if you want it.”

I swear to God Tilly knows exactly what she’s doing. Either there really are no bigger towels, or she’s trying to raise my blood pressure again. Whichever, just standing there, leaned casually against the doorframe, her hair still a little damp where she’s washed it now falling lazily about her shoulders, she looks energized. She looks the part in a life I haven’t experienced yet.

“I thought you were going to invite me to join you.”

“And there I was waiting for you all along.”

“You might have to be a bit clearer with your signals next time, because I thought you wanted to be alone.”

“Maybe you’re just not reading me right.”

“Impossible.”

“The mighty Landon Maddox.”

“See, you do admit it.”

“I’m going to get dressed.”

“You want me to make sure you know how to get your panties on right?”

“Because you’re so good at taking them off?”

“I’ll get better.”

“You might not get a chance.”

Tilly selects clothes from the bag she’s been living out of since we arrived, and walks with them towards the bedroom.

“That’s still my bedroom you know. I could walk in there any minute.”

At the entrance to the room, and with her back turned to me, she opens up the towel that’s barely covering her anyway, and drops it to the ground. I see her nakedness only for a moment, before she steps inside the threshold and closes the door behind her.

I have to smile. Games like this, I absolutely hate being on the other end of, but I appreciate the importance in being able to play them. If I go to the room now, I show her I can’t resist her, but I also run the risk of a potential misunderstanding. She’s set it up so I could make a fool of myself, so even if I desperately want to, there’s no way I can open up that door.

I know this has to go one way and one way only, if I’m going to continue getting what I want, I need to call Tilly’s bluff, pretend I’m not that bothered if we do it at all, and make her beg me for it.

She practically begged in the first place, so I know she wants it, I just need to make sure I can hold out just that little bit longer than she can.

A little while later she reappears. A new dress, her hair swept up into bunches, clean and fresh and smelling wholesome.

I’m sat on the couch where I always sit, and Tilly bounces over to join me, squeezing her cute little ass into the snug of the seat next to me. I know exactly what she’s doing, but I’m not going to allow it.

“You know, I’ve been thinking.”

“Go on.”

“Now that my mom and your dad aren’t here, I’m going to take their room to sleep in. I’ve been sleeping so badly on the floor here, and it doesn’t make any sense to leave a double bed empty.”

“Absolutely, I think it’s a good idea. I can’t cope with you being in a bad mood because of lack of sleep. Today is the brightest I’ve seen you in the last four days, although maybe that wasn’t just because you slept well.”

Tilly narrows her eyes at me.

“Do you ever think about anything else?”

“I think about a lot of different things. Food, football, sex.”

“Men are all the same.”

“You don’t think women are too?”

“Please. Women make men look like apes.”

“And people think I’m conceited.”

Tilly shifts as much as she can in the seat to allow her to be side on to me, for no other reason than so I can see her smile when she says it.

“You are conceited.”

“And you think about sex as much as I do. I’m not the one that brought a whole pile of magazines with me.”

“To read.”

“The pages of pictures of me in my boxershorts. You’re so transparent, Tilly.”

“You were the one that couldn’t resist me just now.”

“Oh, right. That was me taking advantage of you, was it? Especially the part where you begged me to make you come.”

Tilly can’t help but start to go a little red. I’m going to push it, now that I’ve found her button.

“Uh, Landon, uh, oh yeah, uh, harder.”

That gets me a punch across the shoulder that hurts her much more than it hurts me. She’s so easy to wind up.

“You ass-hole.”

“I know you love it.”

“We can’t do that again by the way. It was a once in a lifetime deal that’s now expired.”

“Once in a lifetime?”

“Now expired.”

“Huh.”

Tilly folds her arms across her chest and then her legs over one another. When she’s closed up, she shifts herself away from me in an act of defiance. As much of an act of defiance as you can conceive in the small space of a tiny two seater couch.

“So what are we going to do for the next three days?”

Tilly shrugs her shoulders.

“I don’t know.”

“You’ll get bored.”

“I’m bored anyway.”

“Maybe we should go home then, you know, if there’s nothing else to do. If we’ve exhausted all the possibilities. If you can’t admit that you want me.”

Tilly can’t help but turn back to face me.

“I got what I wanted, I’m fine now.”

“For a while.”

“I managed for long enough without you, Landon, I think I can cope if we never do it again.”

I run my hand along the exposed skin at the top of her dress, across her neck and into the hair at the back of her head. I give it a gentle tug and move myself towards her.

“Are you sure about that?”

She enjoys it for a moment, backing her body into mine so much I have to shift to the side to accommodate her, before she lifts herself up and away from me.

“I’m sure, thanks.”

“You’re lying.”

Tilly shakes her head while beaming a bit smile down at me. It’s the same movement a young girl would make if caught eating chocolate secretly.

“Not lying.”

I know she’s lying. I know she’s playing a game. I know what she really wants is for me to pick her up, take her to the double bed and show her exactly what she’s trying to pretend she’s happy to miss out on. Well, fine. I’m not going to play the game she wants me to play. If she wants to miss out all of those things because she can’t admit to wanting me, so be it.

“We’re not going to be alone forever.”

Tilly shrugs her shoulders. “Then I guess if it’s important, we’ll have to make time. You know in your busy schedule.”

“Then maybe it’s not so important.”

“I guess we’ll see.”

“Will we?”

“You tell me.”

“I’m not the only one risking something.”

“And I thought you just wanted to get laid.”

“It’s a good start.”

“It might be a perfect end too. You know, before you get too attached.”

“What would I do then?”

“You might learn something about priorities.”

“I told you, I’m not the bad boy that everyone makes out.”

“What are you then? A good guy with a big dick?”

“Your words, not mine.”

I know she’s trying to pretend she’s not thinking about it, trying to stop her eyes from going there.

“Whatever. You don’t deserve me anyway. I’m far too good for you.”

“Is that right?”

I watch her move about the living room gracefully, each carefully placed footstep an act of contrived perfection.

“I’m much prettier than the girls you normally end up with. I’m obviously more intelligent. I’m much more stable too.”

“You’re unavailable.”

“Your words, not mine.”

Tilly has created a distance between us, as though the weight of the conversation we appear to be having needs a large space to expand into.

“I thought a moment ago you didn’t want me.”

Tilly smiles.

“I don’t.”

“So?”

“Hypothetically speaking.”

“If you did?”

“If I did.”

“You’re unavailable.”

“And you don’t date.”

“See? We are completely incompatible. Even if you could admit that you want me.”

“I’ve known you for four days.”

“Do you always sleep with people after such a short amount of time?”

“I’m not like you, Landon.”

“No, of course, you wait to get to know someone first.”

“I wait to get to know their name at least.”

“How long have you known that you wanted to date me?”

Tilly takes a moment to compose herself before she answers. I think she’s struggling not to laugh.

“That would never work.”

“Because I’m your stepbrother?”

“Because you’re an asshole.”

“That hurts my feelings.”

“I think you’re big enough to get over it.”

“You sound like you know me better than you think.”

She’s doing that lip biting thing again that drives me crazy.

“It’s just so obvious, it’s kind of hard to miss.”

“I don’t hear too many people complaining about it.”

“That surprises me, considering how many people are aware of it.”

“You make me sound like I’m in a different bed every day of the week.”

“I read the papers.”

“I told you, the papers lie.”

“So you’re a one woman man now?”

“I just take every day as it comes.”

Tilly has her hands out to the side like a dancer about to perform a pirouette, while instead she places one foot carefully in front of the other, and begins to close the distance between us again.

“How can you ever plan anything if you’re looking at the future so closely?”

Bang, the perfect moment to look up and lock eyes with me.

“Because I trust myself to make the right decision.”

“Landon Maddox making the right decision? When has that ever happened before?”

She’s close enough to touch, and I desperately want to reach around her waist and pull her down into my lap. I don’t even need to look at it to know I’m hard. She’s teasing me and it’s working. For a brief moment, I think she’s actually going to fall forwards into me, before she spins to face the other way and begins retracing her steps.

“There’s a first time for everything.”

“What would the papers say about that?”

“They might print something you’d enjoy reading for once.”

“I enjoy reading it all.”

“See? I knew you were my biggest fan.”

At the far wall she spins again to face me. I think she’s going to begin to walk towards me again, but she doesn’t, she leans against the wall instead, one leg bent and her foot propped up against it, her palms flat out to cushion her ass.

“Know thy enemy.”

“Why is it that you hate me again? Or is it just that you can’t admit to liking me and you actually hate that about yourself?”

She takes a moment to gaze languidly out of the window and in that moment I wonder if she’s as turned on as I am. There is a buzz of sexual tension in this room so thick I’d have trouble cutting through it with a chainsaw.

“I don’t know you well enough to answer that.”

“Do you know yourself well enough to know which question needs answering?”

That gets me a smile. If I was playing this game, which I’m not by the way, that would be the smile that would usually make me go over. I let the moment hang. I let her know she’s not going to get what she wants. Yeah, I don’t get what I want right now, but when I do, she’s going to be all over me.

“Sure, I know what I want.”

“Then I guess you just need to get to know me better.”

“In three days?”

“Don’t forget about family gatherings.”

“Of course. The ones that you are never able to make it to.”

“That might be different now.”

“I wouldn’t count on it.”

“Then you really don’t know me.”

“I know you like to play, and I know you don’t like to lose. You might be backing the wrong horse.”

“Maybe I’m backing the right horse, but the game is rigged.”

Tilly pushes herself playfully off the wall, before allowing herself to bounce back onto it.

“Then we have to change the game.”

“That’s easier said than done.”

“Depends how much you want to win.”

Again she bounces herself off the wall before allowing herself to fall back onto it.

“Or how much you like to play.”

“What’s the point in playing if you don’t do it to win?”

“Maybe I’m risk averse.”

“Then I guess you are backing the wrong horse.”

“How am I ever going to know?”

“Maybe you won’t until the game is over.”

“I still get to play it though, right?”

“As long as you play to win.”

“And what if I play to win, but I end up losing?”

“Then you’ll have to deal with the consequences.”

“I’m not used to losing.”

“Then you’ll know exactly what to do to win.”

Now she begins her slow walk towards me. One step at a time, her eyes holding mine, her movement confident and sexy. I find myself hypnotized to watch her, frozen here in a state of arousal, ready for her to fold herself into me. She stops, two steps in front of me and leans forward so she’s at my eye line. She’s close enough to kiss, and I have to fight against the urge not to do it. I need to hold on, just that little bit longer, no matter what my dick is saying.

“Because I don’t like losing either.”

“Then I guess we’d make a good team.”

Close enough to pull her into me. Close enough to run my tongue over her lower lip and bite it where she likes it to be bitten. Close enough to fuck her if she let me.

“If I were available.”

“And I dated.”

“Shame.”

“Shame.”

Sexual tension so thick I’d struggle to break through it with a mallet. I don’t think I’d even be able to drill through it with the kind of drill they bore tunnels out of rock with. Rock as hard as my swollen cock.

“I guess there is nothing we can do then.”

“I guess not.”

“Shame.”

“Shame.”

Hold on, just that little bit longer. She’s going to break, I can see it in her eyes. She’s going to fold, right into me, begging me to take her. She’s going to smile, stand up straight again, bite her lip and skip away? That’s not in the game plan.

“Tilly?”

“I’m going to lie down outside under the sun for a while, I suddenly feel a little bit light headed.”

I can’t help but smile in awe of this girl. She’s stronger than I thought. More cocky, more confident.

“You don’t mind, do you?”

“No, of course not. You-. Go right ahead.”

Leave me here with a raging boner.

“Great.”

At the french windows, she turns.

“Landon?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t mind if you want to join me outside. You can sit in the jacuzzi if you want, I know you’re big enough to handle it. I’ve heard the views are literally breathtaking.”

And then with a sassy smile, she’s away, and I’m left with my dick in my hand, wondering what the fuck just happened.

Five minutes. I give her five minutes before she gets bored and comes back inside. I can see her trapped by the glass, alright, half of her, her legs at least, her dress pulled up to expose them to the sun, or to me, whichever, I know she knows I’ll be watching.

Five minutes. She practically ordered me to come outside, get naked and jump in the jacuzzi, but I’m not going to let her take control like that, if she wants me, she can ask me for it. I’m not some kind of performing monkey with a huge dong that people travel two hundred miles to see sit in his enclosure rubbing his dick, I’m better than that, and I know Tilly’s just playing hard to get because she can’t cope with me knowing how crazy she is about me.

Five minutes. I count them tick past. I count another ten go with them, and still Tilly hasn’t moved to come back inside. She’s mocking me. We don’t know how long we’ve got to enjoy this time alone, and she’s sat outside wasting it. I know all I need to do is go outside, rip my shorts off and sit in the tub, but that’s exactly what she wants me to do, and if I play her game, we both know she’ll have won.

At least I’ll get laid though, I suppose there is that. Unless Tilly’s bluffing me, but based on the way she was moaning earlier, the way she was sassing me just now, I don’t reckon that’s even an outside chance.

I bet she’s sat there hoping I take the bait, regretting playing the hand that way in the first place, dreading me refusing altogether. If she didn’t take the whole thing so seriously, we could be fucking again right now. Once is not going to keep me sated, and the longer we leave it until we do it again, the harder it’s going to be to be able to resist. But no, Tilly has to know that I’m not just fooling around, that I’m playing the game to win, whatever the hell that means. What’s wrong with just fooling around and having a bit of fun? We’re both adults, right? We’re obviously attracted to each other, and even though Dad and Rachel are married, it’s not like Tilly and I are related. What’s she worried about? That I’m going to love her and leave her like every single girl I’ve ever been with she reads about in the paper? Or is she worried I’ll break her heart, which might even be out of the realm of my capabilities in three days?

I know girls go crazy around me, but it usually takes a little bit longer to fall in love. And anyway, I’m not the fuck them and leave them kind of guy the world thinks I am. Yeah, a relationship with my stepsister may be a little more challenging for people with a low IQ to understand, but that in itself wouldn’t be a reason for me not to do it. That’s so far down the line I’m not even thinking about it anyway, even if Tilly might be.

I bet if we did go down that road though, after the initial knee jerk reaction of people thinking we were doing something immoral, wrong or outright illegal, people would just get on with it and understand it’s a relationship like any other. Coach would probably prefer it too. At least Tilly’s wholesome. Much more wholesome than the girls I usually bring home. The weird one would be convincing our parents, although they’re both fairly liberal people they probably wouldn’t care either.

I don’t even know why I’m thinking about the possibility of a relationship anyway, because we barely know each other yet. The more time I spend with her, the more I like her, but it’s been a weird few days anyway and I might not be thinking all that clearly.

Yes she’s funny, sassy, intelligent, creative, independent, and sexy in a way that she doesn’t realize, she’s fantastic in bed and makes my dick hard just by standing next to me, but I bet she’s got just as many negatives too. I just haven’t been around her long enough to find out.

Thirty minutes and she still hasn’t come back in. This is ridiculous. She better not have fallen asleep out there. The more time that passes the more difficult it gets to resist, and my dick is still refusing to go down. I should be sleeping. Maybe I ought to do that instead. That’ll show her. Refuse her invite, lie down on my bed with her mattress underneath it and wait for her to wake me up with a little massage or mouth play. See how she likes coming in to beg.

I’d do it if I thought it would work, but I’m past the point of sleeping now anyway and my mind is on something else entirely.

I know what I should do. I should go out there just like she wants me to, but instead of sticking around and sitting in the jacuzzi and waving my dick in the air, hoping she’ll take a bite, I should walk straight past her, my top off just to give her an idea of what she’s missing out on, and go to the end of the garden and toss the football around.

When I’ve got myself all sweaty and put on a bit of a performance, I should sit in the jacuzzi like she says, and then tell her she can’t join me when she blatantly wants to. Tell her she has to beg, her panties round her ankles pushing herself back onto my tongue so I can taste whether she’s ready to get in alongside me. That’ll show her I’m not prepared to play her game. That’s bound to work.

––––––––

Tilly

Thirty five minutes passes before Landon joins me on the decking. I’ve been waiting for him, although I didn’t expect him to take this long. I’m a little relieved he’s decided to come out at all, because there was a moment when I thought he’d given up on me completely. I know I’m taking a risk in playing this the way I am, but I’m not stupid, and nor am I prepared to let Landon treat me that way. I know half of the stories I read about him will be exaggerated, but I know what I’m like too. I’ve had my heart broken once, and if I’m going to let myself go again, I have to make damn sure that Landon isn’t going to disappear on me as soon as he’s got what he wants. Even if that means risking holding out on him, or not having sex with him again at all. If it’s going to end at all, I’d much rather it end now, before I’m in too deep. Alright, we’ve only known each other for three days, but I’ve known about him for a lot longer than that. If one of us is taking a risk here, it’s clearly me. This is serious for me, fun obviously, but not throwaway, and I have to make sure he understands that. If he wants me, he has to show he’s willing to commit to me, whatever that means in the context of what is possible for us. What it means for me is that if we are going to fuck each other again, we have to be aware that we are entering into the possibility of some kind of deeper or stronger connection and we have to be conscious of the consequences of that. People fuck each other all the time and it means nothing, but when Landon fucked me just now, I felt the world move, and I knew I would. I don’t want that to mean nothing. I didn’t come here looking for a relationship, and I’m not even sure I want one with Landon, but I want to know that the possibility exists if we continue doing what we’re doing.

I was hoping I’d hate him, but I was wrong. The trouble is, I have a feeling I love him, or at least I have the potential to love him, which is a ridiculous thing to say considering we’ve spent four days with each other, and a dangerous thing to admit to, either internally or to anyone else. If that really is the case, I have to tread carefully, and play this right.

Landon is part of the family now, which means any potential sexual relationship between us has its complications, but isn’t impossible. There are difficulties that will need to be worked around, thought about, put in place when the moment arises and arguably, he stands to lose more than I do if that were ever on the cards, which might lead to a lot more reluctance to engage in one.

We can do nothing but address each issue as the time comes, and the issue I need to address right now is how Landon and I can fuck each other again, without me demonstrating that I need him, without feeling like I’m falling in love with him, and, most importantly, without falling that little bit too far to make the journey back heart breaking, if I have to take it.

“You took your time.”

Landon does not look impressed, but I get the feeling he’s putting it on. He’s still looking at me, even though he’s pretending not to.

“Thought I’d let you have a bit of alone time first so you could gather your thoughts.”

“How considerate.”

“I told you, I’m always thinking about others.”

“I needed you to put my sunscreen on.”

“Well why didn’t you come back in and say?”

I hold the bottle out to him, which makes it harder for him to refuse, and sort of ignore his question at the same time.

“I can’t reach my back, and seeing as you’re already acquainted with it.”

Landon comes over and takes the bottle. I can see he feels obliged and doesn’t like it one bit. When he sits down on the edge of the lounger I feel my tummy squirm. He may have softened a little bit, but he’s still thicker than most and so obvious in the shorts he’s wearing. I feel horny knowing he’s about to put his hands on me, especially because neither one of us will know what it might lead to. On one hand I’m just asking him to apply a bit of sunscreen, on the other, I’m as horny as hell and desperate to have him fuck me again, but super keen not to show it. The sexual tension is driving me crazy, but I love it. I love knowing that Landon wants me and I love holding the cards and deciding if and when he gets it.

I spin over so he can get to my back, making sure my summer dress is loose at the top so he can slide his hands right in under the fabric.

“You might have to take your dress off again if you want me to do it properly.”

Landon lifts my hair up and sets it to one side, before running his hands out across my shoulder blades, up to my neck and then down a little further, under my dress and towards my bum as far as he can reach.

“I don’t want to get lotion all over the fabric.”

“Just don’t go that low.”

“You don’t want an all over tan?”

His hands on me feel incredible, and I knew they would.

“You think it would suit me?”

“I think taking your dress off would suit you.”

“I think taking my dress off would suit you.”

“I think it would suit us both.”

Landon pauses to put more sunscreen in his palm, which he works around the left side of my back.

“I wouldn’t want to overdo it.”

“I don’t think there’s any chance of that.”

He moves from my back to my arms, massaging my upper arm and interlocking his fingers into mine to push my palms back. It feels great, and embarrassingly, I can’t help but moan a little.

“Where did you learn to do that?”

“I’m not just your average football jock.”

“I know that already. You’re an average underwear model too.”

“You want me to do your legs?”

“Are you asking for permission?”

“I thought I better had.”

“Just in case I refuse?”

“You know you’re turning me on.”

“Do all simple actions turn you on, Landon?”

“They might do with you.”

“Maybe you ought to put cold water in that jacuzzi before you get into it.”

“I wasn’t going to get into it at all.”

Landon lifts my dress up over my panties to flatten against my back. He begins at my ankles, pulling my legs apart so he can get more easily at the flesh there. Simple strokes run fingers over my skin, a delicate pin point of pressure shooting bolts of pleasure through the rest of my body. From here I know he’ll be able to see my form. I know he’s seen it once already, but I let him get at it then, this is a different matter entirely. This is seeing the Christmas present before he knows when he can open it. Seeing the toy before he’s given permission to play with it.

“So, you did only come out here to massage me.”

“I’m putting on sunscreen, just so you don’t get confused.”

His hands creep up past my knee, teasing their way towards my inner thigh, before they retreat again, back to the tender flesh of my calf muscle.

“And you’re doing it so well, I won’t need to reapply it.”

“You might if you join me in the jacuzzi.”

“I thought you weren’t going to get in it.”

“That depends on how sweaty I get.”

“And what were you planning on doing exactly?”

His hands sweep towards my inner thigh again, one unbroken movement that whooshes them past my knee from my ankle. This time I feel his finger brush the edge of my panties and I have to concentrate hard not to show it affecting me.

“I was going to do a workout based on one single repeated action.”

He’s at the edge of my panties again, so close I can feel the heat of his hands in my pussy, and I know he’ll be able to feel the heat of my pussy against his hands. He whips them away before I get time to really enjoy it.

“Sounds like a lot of fun.”

“Oh, it is. You can join me if you like, I might even let you hold my balls.”

I don’t get time to respond, before Landon takes his hands away from me and stands back up. I don’t even get one last cheeky squeeze of my inner thigh. I guess I deserve that.

“You’re done.”

“Are you sure I’m completely covered?”

My pussy is fizzing, and I would love him to put his hands back on me. He’s hard, but I don’t want to point it out in case it gives him the wrong idea. The thing is, I’d love to have him fuck me right now. I’d love to have him put that enormous cock anywhere in my body. I’m not going to ask, and he knows I’m not either, which is why he’s not doing anything about it. It’s why he’s stopped mid massage, my pussy wet and his dick equally throbbing. It’s stalemate. It’s about who wants it the most and who can resist the longest. It’s sexual tension city and Landon and I are two runaway trains on course to crash at the main train station. It’s brilliant and awful all in one go, and I’m loving every minute of it.

“Oh, you’re covered alright. I made sure of that. The sun is just going to rebound off you.”

Well played, Landon. I have to admire him for that. Not only for showing resistance but for being intelligent enough to play the game. He’s just upped the stakes, and made me want him even more, which makes what happens from now on, even more dangerous.

I side eye him as he removes his T-shirt, secretly hoping he’s going to remove his board shorts too, which he doesn’t, of course.

“Going so soon?”

“I’ll be close by. You can entertain yourself with the view, I’ve heard it’s absolutely stunning.”

I hold up the bottle of sunscreen, my last trump card.

“You don’t want me to return the favor?”

Landon smiles. “I don’t burn so easily. Maybe you can just give me the massage part when I’m done.”

Not only has he left me throbbing, he’s also stuck the ball firmly back into my court. Ass-hole. I watch him toss a bunch of footballs down to the end of the garden, each one to a different spot, before he jogs after each one and repeats the action by throwing them back towards me.

Even though I’m supposed to be letting the sun get to my back, I find I can’t take my eyes off him, or his balls actually, especially when they are coming towards me so quickly I think I’m going to have to dodge out of the way, before each and every one, every single time, thuds against the foot of the decking so accurately he couldn’t do better with a programmed machine.

I watch him do this about half a dozen times, his bronzed skin sparkling in the sunshine and sweat building up across his forehead, his muscles tensing across his whole body and mine tensing so much too, I feel like I’m going to explode with excitement.

I already know he’s an incredible athlete, I mean I’ve seen him perform so many times it’s almost embarrassing, but seeing it so close up, really brings it home. I could watch this all day and not get bored of it, especially if it was always a private performance.

I know what this is. I know he’s doing this to get me excited, and although I don’t want to admit it, it’s totally working. Landon always looks hot, but right now, he looks absolutely unstoppable. I want that smoking hot strip of man flesh to show me what he can really do with his balls, and I want it now. I can’t resist any longer. He’s done it, he’s beaten me. He’s won.

My mouth is open to shout to him, the words are halfway out and I’m so overwhelmed by what I know I need to do before I lose my moment of courage, that I must misinterprete the sound, or just not hear it at all.

“There you both are.”

Landon freezes, while I turn so suddenly to see what I hope isn’t there, I tip the sunlounger and splutter spectacularly onto the decking. Marvin has just about enough time to duck, before the football whizzes past him and crashes through the french windows.

My heart drops. I know Landon’s will have done too. This is bullshit. Marvin is supposed to be ill, but he doesn’t look it. He looks normal, better than normal in fact. They are supposed to be in hospital in New York, not here, fucking up my moment. How the hell did they get here anyway?

“Fuck.”

Mom frowns at me.

“Tilly, language.”

There is a moment of absolute silence, before Marvin gathers himself enough to speak.

“I guess you weren’t expecting us.”

––––––––

Landon

I knew it. I knew we’d run out of time, or miss our opportunity or whatever. Tilly’s eyeballing me so obviously across the room I’m surprised Rachel and Dad don’t pick up on it. She was about to fold as well, even though I know she’ll never admit it, one hundred percent she was about to beg me for it.

I guess in some way we got lucky. If Dad had rocked up even fifteen minutes later, he would have caught us at it, because there is no doubt in my mind that Tilly would have been launching herself at me as soon as I dropped my sweaty body into that jacuzzi. She was wet as soon as I started rubbing sunscreen on her tender skin.

“Well?”

Dad looks like a completely different person. Whatever they did to him has clearly worked, perhaps a little bit too well.

“A bug.”

“A bug? What kind of bug?”

“Just a bug. They didn’t really know much more than that, other than it wasn’t serious.”

“Serious? You looked half dead when they loaded you up onto the ambulance.”

“I know, right? I was in bad shape, that’s for sure. Thank you for organizing that by the way.”

Tilly looks just as pissed off as I do. I doubt this is the welcome back party they were expecting us to give them, even though they don’t seem to be picking up on it.

“And that’s it. One minute you’re puking your guts up all over the place, the next you’re better than normal?”

“Well, no, not exactly. They gave me some drugs, which worked, and then after an hour or so I felt so much better there didn’t seem any point in staying.”

“We tried to call but couldn’t get through, obviously.”

My eyes go to Rachel momentarily. She looks tired and can’t have slept much more than I have.

“And the ambulance brought us back here.”

“The private ambulance brought you back here?”

“He said it would be covered in the insurance. I knew you wouldn’t mind. So here we are.”

“Why didn’t you just stay in the hospital? You were pretty bad after all, and the last thing you want is it happening again.”

Good question, Tilly.

“Marvin doesn’t like hospitals. Besides which, once we knew it wasn’t something fatal, we figured there was no better place than here, with you guys.”

“Right. At least an hour from the nearest decent hospital, just in case it happens again. Makes perfect sense.”

Tilly nods enthusiastically.

“We would have been alright without you. Landon was even going to cook.”

“I can see.”

Rachel indicates the smashed window, which has been hastily fixed in the interim with cardboard and tape.

“I thought you were supposed to be good at throwing a ball.”

“I got distracted.”

“And clothes all over the place, Tilly? It’s a good job we came back.”

It’s a good job you didn’t come back fifteen minutes later and you really would have seen clothes all over the place.

“So, a bug?”

“That’s what they said.”

“How did you get it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is it contagious?”

“If it was contagious, we’d all already have it. It was a twenty four hour thing, clearly. You can see your Dad’s much better than he was last night.”

“It’s not even a twenty four hour thing. Twenty four hour things take twenty four hours.”

“I’m still not a hundred percent, but I’m definitely on the way there. They’ve given me some medication to take for a couple of days, and told me I have to take it easy.”

“Which means no long walks out in the sun.”

Tilly and I look at each other in horror.

“Three days inside is going to kill you, Marvin. Especially with all this nature surrounding us.”

Rachel decides to respond to that conundrum herself.

“We don’t want a repeat of what happened last night.”

“Maybe it wasn’t as serious as you made out.”

“I thought he was going to die.”

“Rachel, please. Can we just move on. I was a little unwell, but thankfully it’s nothing serious. Thanks to Landon I’m back here in much less time than I thought I would be. Imagine if we’d stayed in that first hospital. I’d still be waiting for them to do some tests on me. As soon as they got me in the ambulance I was already feeling better.”

If I hadn’t arranged that, Tilly and I would be fucking right now. In the jacuzzi, afterwards on the decking, on the sofa I’m sat on. We could have had the whole afternoon, all night and perhaps some of the following day enjoying a bit of alone time. Instead, we have to cope with the fug of sexual tension in a house so tiny we can’t even think without being heard. Even if she agrees to it, which she is even less likely to now, how are we going to fuck each other without being found out?

This also might be completely different when the vacation is over and we each go back to our separate lives. I mean, she lives with her Mom still. She’s even at University still, in a whole different state. If too much time passes, she might even begin to regret it.

“So, what have you two been up to?”

Tilly and I look at each other. She fumbles an answer and I do too. Eventually we talk over each other while Marvin’s eyes go from me to his stepdaughter. The result is a classic confusion of information which results in the initial telling of two stories that mould essentially into one with largely conflicting criteria.

In the end, I woke Tilly up and she was already awake when I came in. We sat for a while chatting in the living room, although neither of us can really remember what about. After that I slept in my bed, while Tilly showered and read and eventually we both found ourselves out on the decking at some point in the afternoon. We certainly did not fuck. Tilly did not have a multiple orgasm, or indeed, the best sex of her life, I did not have an orgasm that far exceeded any other I’ve ever experienced and we didn’t, subsequently, flirt outrageously with each other afterwards, pretending we didn’t want to do it again.

Rachel doesn’t seem entirely convinced by the story, and i’m not surprised, but she doesn’t have a good reason to believe we are lying, so she just nods happily and smiles as though we’ve made a joke and she’s in on it. Tilly goes red, and then tries to hide her face when she realizes it, and Dad just smiles at as both, with a mood clearly enhanced by the medicines he has been given.

It’s enough to move the focus of the conversation away from us and back to the holiday at hand. We have two more days here. Three if you count the day we are supposed to leave. Dad is essentially house bound, at least for the next day or so, the whole vacation if Rachel gets her way, which also means that Rachel will be housebound keeping a keen eye on him. That leaves Tilly and I either under their feet like a pair of rats running around a cage, or free if we decide to wander outside into the vastness of the landscape that surrounds us.

With Rachel and Dad unable to follow us, we will essentially be alone again. This might work out even better for us, because at least this way we’ll know exactly where they are. Forget about surprise appearances that result in broken windows and immediate softening of erections, this will be wilderness and wild fucking and nature and nothing else. I just need to convince Tilly not only to come with me but to come with me too. And the way she was acting earlier, shouldn’t be too difficult at all. We won’t be able to do it today, which makes it all that more exciting for tomorrow.

“So, you’re stuck here, right? I mean, the doctor reckons you need to rest up after what happened.”

“At least for a couple of days.”

“Or more”, Rachel adds.

“But that doesn’t mean that we have to?”

“No, of course not, you guys can do whatever you want, you’re both adults.”

Consenting adults, Rachel.

“There’s plenty of stuff around here to do.”

I don’t even need to look at Tilly to know she’s looking at me with wide eyes.

“I was going to head to that lake I found again tomorrow, would you and Tilly like to join me?”

“I can’t with your dad here sick, Landon, but thanks for the offer. I’m sure Tilly would be up for it though. It would be good for you guys to spend some quality time together.”

Yes, Rachel, it would absolutely.

“What do you say, Tilly?”

“I don’t know. I was going to work on my tan tomorrow.”

I know what you want to be working on instead, Tilly, so stop playing hard to get.

“You can work on your tan at the lake.”

She’s smiling at me and I know exactly what she’s thinking even though she’s not saying it.

“Then I’d have to spend time with you.”

“Who says we have to spend that time talking though?”

Tilly has to work hard not to smile at that.

“Well how else are you going to get to know each other? I mean, seriously. You kids these days don’t know how to communicate.”

I disagree with you on that one Rachel, Tilly knows exactly how to communicate, and I’m picking up loud and clear what she’s telling me. Play hard to get and I’ll enjoy it more. Beg and he won’t respect me.

“And Tilly, I think it’ll do you good to get out of the house. You spend enough time in it at home. Marvin and I would be jumping at the chance to come with you if he wasn’t convalescing.”

Tilly gives her mother a look of disdain that makes me laugh.

“I’m not the homemaker in this family, Mom.”

“No, clearly not.”

Rachel could be referring to the clothes strewn all over the living room floor that she felt like she had to tidy up into a neat pile in the corner, or the fact that Tilly never puts anything away after she uses it, or the fact that she doesn’t have a boyfriend yet, or seemingly any intention to get one. Whatever she means by it, Tilly’s clearly not impressed. I decide to divert the conversation back to my burgeoning fantasy of sex out in the middle of nowhere.

“So, what do you say, Tilly? You could make us both a picnic to take along.”

Tilly sticks both of her middle fingers up at me.

“Alright, you think about it. I’m going to go tomorrow anyway so you can come along if you want to or not. The offer’s there if you want to take it.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Good.”

“It might depend on how well I sleep.”

Is that a come on, Tilly? Are you trying to say one thing and tell me another.

“I think we could all do with a good night’s sleep. I’m absolutely shattered after what happened last night. Your dad took me from pillar to post.”

“You’re not the only one.”

“I told you all not to worry.”

“While trying to puke all over my car.”

“At least you’ve all got beds to sleep in.”

“You’ve got a bed, Tilly, you’re just not using it.”

“Landon’s right, darling. Maybe you should just swallow your pride and allow yourself a good night’s sleep for once.”

I’m nodding, perhaps more enthusiastically than I should. Even with Tilly lying in bed next to me, there is no way we’d be able to do anything without being heard. It would be even worse. It would be an exercise in absolute torture. It would be a real test to see how much we could both resist. It would make me so horny too, knowing we both want to but knowing we both can’t as well, not until the following day, and perhaps not even then either. On reflection, maybe it’s best if we didn’t at all, just because I know how difficult it would be. Fuck.

“Maybe I should.”

“Absolutely you should.”

My eyes go to Dad. This could be awful for both of us, yet Tilly will know exactly that and is not backing down. What she’s done is take the decision to do it very cleverly away from her.

“I remember having to sleep for months either on a sofa or on a hard floor when Landon’s mother and I were splitting up, it’s absolute hell. I’m surprised you’ve lasted so long already.”

Tilly smiles at me.

“You don’t mind, Landon, do you? I’m a pretty quiet sleeper.”

“No, absolutely not. Maybe then you’ll feel refreshed enough to come with me tomorrow.”

“Maybe I will.”

––––––––

Tilly

That was a little unexpected, I have to say. I have quite a nice bruise developing on my elbow where I smashed into the decking, another on my toe where I stubbed it trying to right myself before anyone noticed my somewhat strange reaction. I don’t think Mom or Marvin thought there was anything unusual about my behaviour, nor the fact that my dress was pretty much hanging off me, Landon was semi-naked and sweaty, or that they had to duck a football flying towards them like a missile. So much for liberal parenting I guess.

Marvin’s illness has completely subsided, replaced by a thick coating of medication that has him smiling a little more enthusiastically than normal and chatting more heartily than he has ever done before.

Landon is just as disappointed at their sudden arrival as I am, which means that he does secretly want me much more than he is prepared to let on. He wants me so much, in fact, he’s engineered a day trip out of the house which will make it much easier for us to fuck each other. I would love to see the look on his face if I turned around and refused his advances, but the problem is, I know that I probably won’t be able to.

I’m going to struggle tonight as it is being in the same bedroom with him. This is my idea after all, not so that we can fuck, I know that’s going to be nearly impossible, but so that we can want each other even more, and the connection becomes ever more difficult to reverse. I say that it’s going to be nearly impossible for us to fuck, that doesn’t mean that I don’t want it, nor that he doesn’t either.

Mom and Marvin have already gone to bed, while Landon and I are sat together in the living room still, him on his two seater couch, me opposite, pretending to read a book, thinking about how I can phrase the things I want to say to him without being too obvious that Mom will pick up on it. It looks like he’s doing the same as well, because right now isn’t the first time he’s nodded towards the bedroom insisting that we move towards it.

My mattress is still on top of his, left there earlier before we moved out first into this room, secondly onto the decking to continue our game. Mom would have seen it had she gone into that room, and if she had, I wonder whether she would have continued to believe that what was clearly developing between Landon and I was still nothing but a sibling bond.

I wonder if I’ll move it. I’ll have to of course, but I wonder if I will.

Landon decides that he’s had enough. We can hear Marvin snoring so we know he’s asleep, not that it really matters anyway, but Mom is still turning over in the bed, perhaps overtired from the events early this morning, perhaps concerned that they’ll happen again.

When Landon passes me, I reach out and grab his arm momentarily. I shouldn’t, but I can’t stop myself and when he smiles down at me I immediately let go.

“Bedtime, Tilly. Are you coming in now?”

I put my finger to my lips to shush him, even though there really is no reason too. We’re sleeping in the same room as stepbrother and stepsister, not in the same bed as lovers. Not yet, anyway. If I don’t go now, he might not allow me to take my mattress away. I might have to sleep on top of him, writhing away on that immenseness as quietly as humanly possible.

Maybe I shouldn’t go at all.

“Yes.”

I follow Landon into the bedroom, my heart in my mouth, barely able to breathe. What am I doing here? How on earth have we allowed this to happen? I’m so tense I could snap, so horny I might explode just by thinking about it.

Landon closes the door behind him and then for a moment we just stare at each other from a distance away, his heart beating so hard I can see it pounding in his chest, my breath so short I have to gulp at it to get enough down.

We are alone again. Alright, Mom and Marvin are practically next door, behind a wall made of paper and we can hear exactly what they are doing, which, in turn, means they can hear exactly what we are doing, but aside from that it’s just him and me. The Donkey and Tilly. Stepbrother and stepsister. Not quite lovers, but not just family any more either.

I eye the mattress. Landon eyes it too. I bite my lip and Landon steps forward. I should stop him, but I don’t.

“We can’t.”

I say it so quietly I can barely hear the words myself.

“I know.”

He is close enough to kiss, his hands around my back, pulling me into him.

“Tomorrow”, I say, confirming what he already knows is true.

“Tomorrow”, he repeats, the word soft on my ear, chased by a silent kiss to my neck.

In his grasp, I am so horny I’m shivering. I can feel him swelling against my inner thigh. I should pull away, but I can’t. I knew I wouldn’t be able to.

If we don’t make a noise, they’ll never know.

“I think we should get ready for bed.”

I nod, silently. “We can’t”, I say again, the words lost in the moan that follows, while Landon traces the tips of his fingers slowly down my spine.

“We aren’t.”

When he gathers the hem of my dress in his hands, I don’t complain, and when he lifts it expertly over my head, instead of commanding him to stop, I lift my hands up to make it easier for him.

A second later his T-shirt is on the floor, and we are facing each other again, this time semi-naked.

This time I step forwards. Landon gathers me up in his arms, and I press myself against him so the skin of our bellies meet. This is a dangerous game and we both know it. One slip and Mom and Marvin could be in here like a shot.

“You know that if we are completely silent, it’s just as suspicious.”

“I want you.”

I can’t help but say it and immediate regret it as soon as it’s out. No more games, no more fucking around, no more pretend power plays. I want him so much it hurts.

“I want you too.”

There is no fucking way in the world we can do this without being caught. No way.

“Sleep with me.”

Landon’s words, not mine. I shake my head. There’s taking a risk and there’s downright stupidity. Us fucking in the first place is taking a risk, us fucking now when everyone will be able to hear us is suicide.

“Then get naked with me at least. We can look at each other without making a sound.”

Can we? This is a dangerous game and Landon has already upped the stakes. Without even getting what either of us really want, we could be jeopardizing things before we’ve even begun. Yet despite all of that, despite the clear risk, the damage, the potential noise of our lust seeping through the walls like mating calls, when he reaches up to undo my bra, I am powerless to stop him.

“We can’t”, I say again, but I already know that we are.

––––––––

Landon

One single noise that shouldn’t be coming from this room and we are caught. I can hear my dad snoring away so loudly it sounds like he’s in the bed next to us, the walls creaking between the two rooms, water flowing through the plumbing, even Rachel turning the pages of her book. Whatever we want to do, whatever we are about to do, if it involves any sound at all, there is a high chance it will be the last time we ever do it.

I want her so much, which makes what I’m about to do probably either the stupidest thing on earth or the bravest.

We can’t fuck. It just won’t work. I want to more than anything in this world right now, but we just can’t. That means what we get is second best. That means all we can do is press ourselves against one another as quietly as possible and hope we are able to resist each other. In some ways this is worse than not doing anything at all, because it’s much easier to resist something if you don’t have that thing waved in front of your face.

That’s the plan anyway. Let Tilly slide my boxer shorts down while I work on her panties, and the two of us ease our way slowly and silently to the bed where we lie there, one on top of each other, side by side, however we fit, until we wake up in the morning, drive out into the middle of nowhere and screw each other’s brains out.

That’s the plan.

That’s the thing we need to do to ensure there is a one hundred percent chance we don’t get caught.

Guess what? Somehow it turns out that plans are easier to follow when the person you are desperately trying not to fuck doesn’t have your swollen dick in her hand ready to slide into her mouth.

I should warn her, but I’m not. I want to tell her that I was right, that I knew she couldn’t resist me, but she’s agreeing to all of that anyway by what she’s busy doing and there is no reason left for me to say it. I have to say, I did not expect this from her at all. I thought she was going to come in here, tease me to the edge of reason and then refuse me point blank, torture me with that cute little ass of hers hanging out of the bed, push me away and make me beg for it.

If anything, I’m the one that seems more cautious of us getting caught. I’m flinching every time I hear a noise come from outside of the room, just in case Rachel’s about to bust through our door and catch me mouth fucking her daughter. I’m holding moans in so tightly my throat hurts.

Tilly is not helping me either and by the smile she has on her face, I know she’s doing it on purpose. This is definitely part of her game to win me over, to show me who is really in control, and I can’t say I’m not enjoying it either. Silently sucking my dick, while she parts her legs, plays with her pussy and shows me her clit, while her mom is so close next door we can practically hear her breathing, that takes balls, man. That I have to admire. It’s not just that either. Tilly knows how to please me. She knows how to suck cock, she knows her to put on a show and tease me with what I know I’m not allowed to take in the way that I want to. If we fuck tonight it has to be glacially. It has to be measured in inches per hour just so we don’t wake our parents. If we fuck tonight, we may not be able to keep our secret any longer.

I can’t take my eyes off her, but I know I can’t continue watching either. Tilly’s long slow licks of my shaft, the way she masks the sounds of her enjoyment by muffling them against my body, the way my skin bobbles up in goosebumps every time she flicks the tip of her tongue across the cord of skin that connects my shaft to my swollen glans, it’s divine.

“Bed?”

My words are a suggestion mouthed silently towards her, to which she understands and shakes her head.

“Noisy”, she mouths back, miming the action of springs going up and down.

“Where?”

I want to fuck her. I don’t even need to come, I just desperately want to slide myself inside her. I’ve already forgotten enough of the sensations of earlier for the desire to have risen again to levels almost impossible to resist.

Tilly shakes her head. Does she want me to beg? Was this her plan all along? Excite me to the point of near climax, rub her clit until she’s on the way there too, and then take the moral high ground? We are halfway there, we might as well continue, even if it literally is just that, a slow fuck that last hours, so silently even the walls can’t hear us. We are arguably taking a bigger risk doing what we are doing now. It’s unlikely Rachel or Dad will come in without knocking, so all we have to do is make sure they don’t hear us.

Tilly has been sucking my cock silently enough for the last five minutes, batting my hands away from her pussy every time I try and put them there, perhaps for fear she won’t be able to control her excitement as much if I do it, but I don’t think she’ll be able to continue much longer without making a mistake and letting a groan or a moan or a slurp or a lick slide under the door to unsuspecting ears. If we are going to get caught anyway, it might as well be while we are fucking, and if we can do this without making a sound, we might as well try the other.

My dick is throbbing so hard It’s beginning to hurt, and I can see in Tilly’s eyes she definitely wants more too.

I pull her to her feet so I can whisper into her ear.

“Let me fuck you.”

“We can’t”, she moans back at me, while she squeezes my cock and tells me what she really wants us to do.

“Where?”

“Against the wall. Slowly.”

I can barely contain my excitement. Every time I breathe it comes out in short staggered gasps, as though I’m standing out in the cold. Tilly is shivering too, and although she’s warm in my hands, she has goosebumps on her arms and upper thighs.

We walk together towards the far wall, the furthest point in the room away from where Rachel and Dad are sleeping. I’m not entirely convinced that Rachel has even fallen asleep yet, but there is no stopping now what both of us want, regardless of the consequences.

If we are quiet there is no way they’ll be able to hear. Even if they do hear something, as long as it’s not obviously us rutting away, there is no way they’ll be able to prove it. Ok, they might look at us strangely in the morning, they might ask some pointed questions, but the won’t know for sure.

We get a lot of wildlife in this area, and some of it is bound to sound fairly similar. The plan is not to make any sound at all, but Tilly and I both know that plans don’t always end up the way they begin.

She puts both feet on mine and holds on tightly, before lifting her mouth towards my ear.

“Don’t make a noise.”

When she pulls away, to stand there in front of me with those beautiful, innocent looking eyes that belong to a girl that seems to be anything but, I can’t help but lean in and kiss her.

I kiss her slowly, silently, my tongue making all the noise my voice isn’t allowed to, and then I bite her lip in the way she likes to bite it herself, just to show her she is mine, before she turns around, places her hands against the wall and pushes me away with her upturned ass, to show she doesn’t mind if I want to make that statement even clearer.

I love this view of a girl, but on Tilly it is absolutely spectacular. She’s a beautiful girl, both naked and with her clothes on, from in front and behind, looking down on her sucking my dick, looking up as she glows in orgasmic delight.

I push her legs a little wider apart, run my fingers slowly over her inner thigh and part her lips with my middle finger.

She is wet, ready, very horny and unable to endure me for very long before pushing me away again.

I get a warning glare to which I have to hold my hands up, before trying again with my tongue. As long as I stay away from her clit, Tilly seems to be able to support it. I run my tongue inside her pussy hole and trace the form of her vagina in an attempt to memorize it, should the opportunity to repeat what we are doing now, never arise again.

I am aware that the longer we take to reach our goal, the higher the chance of getting caught, but the slower we are, the less likely we are to make a sound. If we were alone in the house, I wouldn’t be approaching things like this, but because we aren’t, it makes things even more exciting.

I love the fact that Tilly is just as game as I am to do this. I know she has a fairly low opinion of me based on what she has read, and perhaps as a direct result of that, a low opinion of herself for finding me irresistible.

I’m not the person that she reads about in the papers though, and my public persona is completely different from my private one. I like girls, and I like fucking, ninety nine percent of the population do, it’s genetic and essential for our survival and sense of well being. What I also like, however, and what doesn’t come across in those tabloid stories, is the fact that I also like to build up a connection with someone because I think, over time, sex gets more enjoyable because of it.

Call that what you like. Some people call it love, some people call it experience, some people just call it familiarity. One night stands are all good and well and sometimes relationships don’t develop past that point. Sometimes the sex after the first time isn’t as good and that’s usually because of the connection between the two people. If the sex gets better every time, it’s usually a good sign that something is working, and in my opinion, that’s worth spending a bit of time developing, regardless of the difficulties or the complications that might surround it.

Everything can be worked out. Food poisoning, broken legs, lying women, stepsiblings, fucking several feet away from your parents, even when your stepmother gets up to go to the bathroom which is behind the wall you currently have her daughter pinned against.

My heart stops. Tilly freezes. Her body goes rigid.

She looks over her shoulder, her face twisted in panic, to which all I can do is press a finger against my lips and beg she doesn’t make a sound. Her pussy is throbbing, my cock inches away from it, ready to slide inside her. This was not part of the plan.

Rachel coughs. Rachel adjusts the seat and then Rachel begins to piss, a slow trickle that turns into a torrent.

She is only a metre or so away from us, close enough that we could reach out and holds hands if the wall wasn’t there.  

If we were asleep it would wake us up. She coughs to try and hide the noise, but the damage is already done. When I see Tilly’s body shaking, her ribs going up and down, it takes me a while to realize she’s trying as hard as she can not to laugh. The last thing I need her to do is turn around and check my status, because as soon as she does, it becomes almost impossible for me not to follow suit. Holding in my excitement is hard enough, holding in a laugh as well is like trying to breath underwater.

The whole thing lasts for way longer than it should do. After the torrent comes a trickle, the rattle of the tissue paper holder, the seat going back down, the flush, and finally the water tap - at which point Tilly and I risk the quick release of our trapped giggles - before Rachel returns to her room.

When we are sure that she isn’t going to come back out again, we both breathe a huge sigh of relief.

Tilly straightens back up again and for a horrible moment I feel like we’ve missed our opportunity.

“You better fuck me quickly before Mom comes back out again. If I can hold in a laugh, I’m going to try my best and hold in an orgasm.”

“Are you sure we should?” I whisper, already turning her around to fold back against the wall.

“Just don’t put a hole in the wall.”

The first time with Tilly was incredible. First times are often a weird mix of a bunch of different negative and positive emotions, but with Tilly, it was absolutely extraordinary in a way that left me sated and desperate for more in equal measure. I had every reason to believe that Dad would be out of action for at least a week with the symptoms he presented this morning, that I expected Tilly and I to have a huge amount of time alone to explore each other, develop a bond, if that was going to happen, and generally cut through the sexual tension that has been hanging around us both like a cloud since day one. When I saw Dad appear on the decking, I thought our chances were over. I never imagined I’d be fucking her against the wall of this bedroom with our parents only metres away, because I didn’t think Tilly had it in her to admit so blatantly that she wanted it.

But that’s exactly what she has done. She’s engineered a perfectly legitimate reason for being in here, dared herself to accept the possibility that something irresistible might arise as a direct result of that decision, and then go for it, with seemingly reckless abandon, carefree and uninhibited.

I’m still nervous that we might get caught. There is no backing out now, and I absolutely wouldn’t want to anyway, but as I spread her legs, guide my cock to the edge of her pussy hole and feed myself inside her, silently and fully, the possibility of this being ruined sits at the back of my mind.

What I lack from her in sound is made up by the rhythms of the muscles of her pussy, the way her whole body reacts to the gentle thrusts I give as I guide myself deeply inside her, the sweat that bobbles along her spine, the sweet smell of desire as she gives herself over to me.

I’ve never fucked in this way before, so quietly we can hear each other’s hearts beating. With a gentle flick of her wrist in an action I understand the meaning of immediately, she commands me to grip her hips tightly, her back arched up to form a dip between her ass and her neck, her tits pushed forwards towards the wall and her pussy driven back to encourage me that extra, all important, bit deeper.

I let my hand wander from time to time, along her spine, underneath me towards her clit, up to squeeze her neck or to tug her hair, and then let it find its way slowly back to her hip, where I grip tightly until the skin there pinches white, and I continue my slow and deep fucking, her pussy wetter every time, the contractions of her muscles closer together, her whole body more sensitive.

We are giving ourselves over to each other, and the knowledge of that is not escaping me. She’s in control, or I am, or we both are or neither of us are, but it doesn’t matter, this is a fuck like no other I’ve ever had, a fuck completely unlike the one earlier.

The first time we fucked was an exploration of one another, a release of pent up desire and secret crushes, this is something completely different and I know we both feel the importance of it. If a bond is going to form between us, this is where it starts.

I knew she was dangerous, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep myself away from her, perhaps she thinks the same about me.

She’s getting close. I can tell by the way she’s moving her body, the way her skin trembles when I touch it, the glint in her eye when she dares herself to look back at me.

One single noise that sounds like anything that shouldn’t come from this room and we are fucked in more ways than one. Our families, my career, this vacation, even something as simple as meal times would be an exercise in awkwardness. But then there’s this. There’s Tilly. Driving me absolutely wild beyond reason.

We can’t fuck, it’s going to be impossible, but I guess impossible isn’t always part of the plan.

I’m not sure if she comes first or I do. I like to think we come together, my breath forced out in short sharp bursts so as to remain as silent as possible, her body immediately sensitive as soon as she’s gone past the point of no return. If we make noise, it’s so unbelievably quiet that I either miss it entirely or am so deeply consumed by an orgasm that ends up sending me to my knees that I miss it completely.

I come while she comes, and I’m still coming when Tilly pulls away from me, the sensitivity too overwhelming and likely to make her explode in a volley of noise if I stay inside her.

I can barely catch my breath, while Tilly takes just as long to peel herself off the wall and turn around, the aftershocks of the orgasm ripping through her so much her body jerks and shivers uncontrollably, her back rippling like a startled snake.

I rock from my knees onto my ass, and sit there for a moment contemplating her, while I try and regulate my heartbeat, my cock still throbbing and refusing to go down. That was, quite simply and without putting it mildly, one of the most enjoyable fucks I’ve ever had in my life.

Finally Tilly gathers herself enough to turn around. With her lower lip caught between her teeth, one leg crossed over the other and leaned against the wall, she begins to shake her head, a huge smile dominating her reddening face.

“Can’t.”

I mouth the word slowly, unable to stop smiling myself.

Tilly has to concentrate hard not to begin to laugh.

“Ass-hole”, she mouths back. “Fucking ass-hole.”

We stay like that for a while, me sat down, Tilly leaned against the wall, both of us trying to catch our breath while laughter fights to take it away from us. When we’ve settled down enough and the time seems right, we make our way over to the bed.

Tilly doesn’t even bother pulling her mattress out, instead she just folds down on top of it, making the bed her own.

It’s an invitation too good to refuse.

I slide in alongside her, pull her towards me and pull the duvet up over us.

“We’ll sort out the logistics in the morning.”

“Fucking A to that.”