The afternoon sun streamed through the window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. I was "cleaning", supposedly. More like fantasizing about what it would be like to really feel desired. My stepsister, Marco, knew exactly how to make me crave attention. He always watched me, a silent heat in his eyes. We were supposed to be studying, but the tension in the air was thicker than the dust.
He walked in as I was "wiping" down the table, the damp cloth clinging to the curves of my body. "Need some help?" he asked, his voice low and husky. My heart pounded in my chest. I knew what he wanted. We both did. I played it cool, shrugging. "Maybe. This table is really stubborn."
He stepped closer, his gaze lingering on my pink pussy outlined under my thin shorts. His hand brushed my arm, sending shivers down my spine. "I know something that will help you loosen up." He pulled me into his chest, his lips finding mine in a hungry kiss. My body responded instantly, a surge of heat flooding my veins.
The next thing I knew, we were on the couch, clothes flying. His hands worshipped my big tits, teasing my nipples until they were hard and aching. He knew exactly where to touch. The amateur intimacy felt raw and exciting. He slipped inside me, filling me completely. I moaned, arching my back to meet his thrusts. This was forbidden, thrilling, and real.
I looked up at his face, his eyes filled with desire. The moment he came, I felt it explode inside me. He pulled out just enough to cum on my tits, a hot, sticky mess painting my skin. I giggled, a rush of pure, unadulterated pleasure coursing through me. "Next time," I whispered, licking a drop of his cum from my chest, "you're cleaning up."
