My Step-Brother's Wife

My Step-Brother's Wife

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


Psychological thriller about a young teenage virgin who falls in love with his step-brother's wife one unforgettable summer.


Psychological thriller about a young teenage virgin who falls in love with his step-brother's wife one unforgettable summer.

Chapter1 (v.1) - CHAPTER 1 REUPLOAD

Author Chapter Note


Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: March 17, 2018

Reads: 161

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: March 17, 2018





I’m a virgin. I met this stunning woman, she was thirty-six, and right off we clicked…




She was already involved with another guy. That guy being my step brother, Daniel. He had everything the world could offer, the charm that could hypnotize any woman, the Hollywood looks women gossiped about with their friends, the hundred thousand dollar a year job, the talented friends, and most importantly to me, he had the greatest girl on the planet, Amanda. Unlike what you’d think of a lady next to a leader figure- she was shy, which instantly had this virgin blushing.  


I had known her for six months, most of the time Daniel was around. It happened one night, something revealing, my dream came true. I didn’t feel guilty about my feelings towards her. I loved my brother, but I also loathed him. He was unfaithful to her, he’d brag about it with me through sharing text messages, video and pictures of other nude women in his presence. Amanda deserved someone faithful, to be with her, to make her feel special, and to love her. This was our first intimate experience together, alone on a hot and unforgettable Friday night.


Amanda came out of the shower, non-discretely in only a white towel, exposed was her freshly shaved legs, smooth arms and chest, blow-dried hair and those sexy dimples caused my hair to lift, among other things, her skin melting- it was an attractive, sizzling caramel colored body tan, and she scented the entire room with a sweet vanilla. I fantasied if her vagina tasted that way. I couldn’t keep my wandering eyes off of her. My step-brother was minutes from heading off to work, it was late at night, he never spoke about his profession, always mentioned that it was confidential, but I assumed it was something restless with his consistent sharp eyes that never fixated on a single object long enough to observe it, barely ever blinking, yet his eyes remained wet. Daniel mentioned to Amanda to get dressed before coming out of the bathroom, half-naked in front of his virgin brother, I can’t blame him, I was looking, and I liked it. 


 I shifted my focus from the television screen towards the two of them, less light now and more of a darkening jealousy through my spying eyes, Daniel and Amanda standing together by the cold doorway. She gave him a kiss on the cheek along with her nails scratching and digging into his ripped shoulders, a sound that in my mind sounded like chalk against hard board and with a handful she proceeded to grab his backside- like it was stress ball, over one of his shoulders she stared at me affectionately with a cute smile. All night Daniel would be gone, leaving us alone, given me precious time to ease my way in for the kill- not literally kill, sexually submit her with my virgin blade (cock). 


I muttered to myself - because talking to yourself was just a normal way of life here. “Fuck this reality TV shit” with its scripted romance and cheesy one-liners, perfect looking people with so-called dramatic lives, yet I still couldn’t deny my addiction to it- damn, those TV writers knew how to suck you in with their direction, even if it felt unnatural.  


I’ll probably head off to Brad’s party shop- an establishment geared towards an unhealthy lifestyle- I’d smoke cheap branded cigarettes, shoot pool on a warped felt and get hustled by a local appearing homeless and desperate, eat enough junk food to cause a riot in my stomach, or I could just stand here by Amanda’s bedroom door, crept open enough for me to peer in stealthily- but thriving for attention, watch her fold them giant towels, and turn her cute, colorful socks into rolled-over cotton balls, slam dunking them into a basket while she sits in a perfect Indian style position- exposing herself on the fluffiest of carpets. Her panties with patterns on them resembling the stripes of a black and white African zebra, exotic looking with smoky, zigzagged outlines from underneath the towel she was wearing. They laid tightly against her thick vagina- taboo lips causing my entire face to burn- swelling up like the clump of goo through a clear lava lamp that sat melancholy on her make-up vanity in the unlit corner of the room. My body churning with fire without a single sip of alcohol in my bloodstream. 


What would she think right now? If she knew one of her silk expensive thongs was missing from the laundry basket? The same thong I slipped on while she was showering moments before- one of those terrible spells of curiosity. Is that still considered strange in the year 2018? I didn’t care, it felt good and naughty, and she always used this detergent that smelled like cotton candy.


I never planned anything going further than just innocently gazing at her from a safe distance- or did I? And occasionally wearing her sexy apparel- what was I thinking? I never had a real girlfriend before, other than fantasying about one, and I was experiencing something inside of myself that was unexplainable- notably teenage hormones, and nothing, not even the sure fear of dying from Daniel’s strong death grip pressed around my tender neck stopped the desire of wanting to rip her clothes off and satisfying those deep cravings I had.  


Some days we'd sneak out of their apartment- like it was a forbidden act to do so. With this day and age of social media and happy fingers ready to hit record on the camera for a viral video, we had to be careful, but at first it was all innocent. She’d take me out to nice restaurants with mean prices- booths taller than I- shiny chandeliers glowing above her cocktails, and she'd spend his money on the both of us, knowing the repercussions of Daniel’s child-like temper tantrums, especially when it came to his cash.


 I’d walk endless isles with her through the mall, shoes and more shoes, rows of super-hot high heels towering above us- there in display like art on the walls. She’d try on each one and with each perfect fit was a different sexy smirk on her face, and I’d give her my unexperienced opinion on how they looked on her- which was always a compliment. I might even mentioned once that they looked delicious on her. That was when I identified- along with my other strange obsessions about her- the birth of a foot fetish or a love for slobbering over her toes. 


Back at the apartment, I sat on the floor, because the couch was taken by her bags of stilettos. I flicked the channel to the weather channel before she walked in, a tornado twirling on the screen attracted me to it, but then there was something more destructive to my heart strings, still in the same towel was Amanda appearing in yellow from the porch light shining through the open side of the long, vertical shades. The weather man shouted “A great chance of storms with very strong… a long, pleasurable pause, daydreaming, then sex and only sex entered my brain when the warmness of her thigh could be felt close to me. The steam from her shower still lingering off her body.  


The bags on the couch was swept aside. She sat down just a few feet away. She let out a soft grunt, might have been on purpose as if she was upset that I wasn’t making the first move. I was nervous-almost shaking in disbelief. If any those popular jocks that use to tease me in the high school locker room could see me now, they’d definitely call me the biggest pussy ever to live on this planet earth.


I realized something as my mind pushed aside the perversion for a second. I felt love for this woman- who was much older than I. I didn’t judge her as a motherly figure or over thirty, that’s just old. It was the kind of love that turns a boy into an awkward slug, technically speaking, my tail between my legs.


Please. Oh. Please I begged subconsciously to my very timid, and awkward self- the part of my thinking process that keeps all the silliness aside for occasions like these- a virgin in a sexual situation, don’t have me ask her if she’d like to talk about it first. Being Mr. nice guy had ultimately led me from second base back to home plate in the past- back to the beginning without a hard bat, just my bare feet sinking in quick sand and a catcher that’s less impressed.


She started to dangle her pink sandal freely, close to my right ear, her feet naked, and they smelled so fresh- like soap with a rosy scent. The sandal fell to the floor- leaving behind just an undressed foot, she caressed my ear with her big toe-with a slight pinch- circular movements, and then her mood changed, very arousing, which made the room’s light appear more dim- even with four of the brightest lamps to ever be plugged in surrounding us.


“Does that feel good?” she asked. Demanding an answer, the pinch’s pressure deepened.  I’ve only seen this in a late-night triple x rated web camera show, sub-tabbed specialty sex, how kinky.  


My mouth flooded with my own saliva- like I’d been injected with rabies, but it was caused by my overly excited tongue- if sex tasted lovely like her aroma it’d be well worth my final moments on Earth. If I’d say something right now, one single word would be dripping, I’d cause a scene requiring major clean-up.


She jumped up and headed to the kitchen. I heard the refrigerator slam- the frozen breeze got sucked back in. She had grabbed a bottle of grape wine,  and she sat back down, spread out on the couch- like she was about to be examined by a gynecologist but the guy on the other end wasn’t a professional with a good poker face, it was me, owl-eyed and pale faced. She laid the dark glass bottle on the floor- and how it was able to stand on the carpet without falling was a very random thought of science. She grabbed my hand and continued to slide it down her inner thigh, guiding my shy fingers between her legs and into what I called-a blessing.


“Deeper, don’t worry, you won’t hurt me” she said quietly. An orgasmic breath flowed from her luscious lips. 


My fingers were completely devoured, and her moans repeatedly increased in volume, her feet was shaking- in a seizure like state. I retrieved the leaking bottle of wine and poured it slowly down her chest, grabbed a hold of both breasts, and started licking it off her long, brown nipples, and then it travelled down her body- a warm stream of purple perfumed liquid heading towards and ending between her toes, which were painted my favorite color, blood red. I had ejaculated at this point. She noticed my mistake on the front of my pants and laughed it off- possibly in confidence.


After the ordeal, she went to bed plopping down on a very large California king with gold satin sheets and her head lying against a cannon-ball headboard. She never asked to go all the way- do girls even ask? Good thing because my penis had gone through so much in just two minutes- it suddenly shrunk and turned soft.


Like a gentleman- a very perverted one with a sensitive heart covered her up with a blanket- though the room felt like a hundred degrees. I grabbed my leather jacket from her fuzzy bean bag. I put it on and zipped it up, and I was going to blow her a kiss, but my eager lips landed on hers. Her expression appeared to be dissatisfied- rejecting when I went in for seconds. Was it my breath? One kiss might have been a foul.


“I’ll be back baby” I said confidently. Hoping I hadn’t ruined my chances. Hovering to her side on the bed, running my used fingers through her brown hair. Also those brown eyes- same ones that kept me awake nights, they had me mesmerized-just like when they stare back at me in my dreams.


“This is our little secret” she said.


I replied “ok, secret’s safe with me”


I walked out of her luxury apartment, roamed the empty streets at midnight, smoking a one hundred, full flavored cigarette I found in one of her furniture drawers next to a nicotine patch, with my head straight up in the air- like a boss. I felt like I could go anywhere, defeat any obstacle. This must be what love feels like- being drunk and brave. Why’d I leave? Maybe needed some cool air? I got plenty of time, my step-brother would be traveling for some special training enhancement class in a few days, and he’d be gone for months. This was going to be the best summer of my life.




© Copyright 2018 RS Vontane. All rights reserved.


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