Being My Stepbrother's Slut Ch. 02

"How do you feel?" I asked with a delighted smile on my face.

"Mmm, absolutely incredible! I could get used to this," Sabrina answered. My friend then leaned forward to plant a kiss on my lips which I eagerly returned, "That cock feels so good, but I want you to have some pleasure too!"

"Oh, don't worry, I still have plenty left for Terri!" Brandon declared. We both looked at him, and true to his word, his cock showed no signs of sagging. This made the two of us giggle.

"Here, watch me a little bit, and I'll show you how I take a cock." I said as I twisted to put myself on my back. Brandon then climbed on the bed while Sabrina sat on her knees and scooched over. First, Brandon leaned over to lock lips with Sabrina. His strong hands caressed both of her tits while they made out, and she wrapped her hand around his head. Then they let go of each other, and Brandon took hold of that delightful cock and lined it up with my pussy, slowly inserting it.

"Uhhhh!" I moaned as Brandon did to me what he did to Sabrina just a little while ago. He was on his knees and his hips slowly rocked back and forth, causing my breasts to do the same. As he pumped his luscious cock into me, he looked down at my face with a satisfied smile. My eyes closed and I raised my hands above my head to relax and enjoy the slow fuck my stepbrother was inflicting upon me. Sabrina watched the display with intense focus, taking in every thrust and every muscle tension. I don't know why, but I suddenly laughed, which caused Sabrina to laugh, and Brandon to join in.

My friend then looked at me, and she got an idea. She walked on her knees up to my head and hoisted a smooth thigh across my face. Her body faced down towards our lovemaking while her pussy hovered over my lips.

"I think I like this vantage point better," Sabrina declared matter-of-factly.

"Mmm, I like the view too," I said as I laid my hands on her sides and lowered that smooth cunt to my lips. I got to work immediately, lapping at that juicy pussy, causing Sabrina to close her eyes and moan.

As Brandon continued pumping his cock in and out of me, I craned my neck to furiously lick my friend's pussy, while she rode my face. Periodically, Sabrina and Brandon came together to share kisses, and one time she took hold of her mammoth tits to feed them to his ravenous lips.

When Brandon couldn't hold back his cum any more, he instructed Sabrina to dismount and for both of us to kneel before him. He closed a hand around his cock and after a few pumps, he blasted his spunk across both of our faces and breasts. Sabrina and I joined together for one last, cum-covered French kiss.

After coming down from our sexual high, we subsequently showered together, another first for Sabrina. We took turns soaping each other off, but we couldn't resist giving my stepbrother a double blowjob. Though new, my friend was indeed quite the natural at sucking cock as well as giving face. She bathed his shaft with her saliva while I lathered his balls with my mouth and tongue. Let's just say it's a good thing we were showering. It made it easier to clean up the mess.

Once finished, we dried off and after relaxing a little more, just talking and chilling out, we got dressed with Sabrina once again wearing her oversized clothes on her smaller frame.

"Are you sure you want me to change you back?" Brandon asked in a soft voice.

"I'm sure," Sabrina answered firmly.

"All right, here we go," with that, Brandon closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and concentrated.

Then his eyes opened and he looked hard at Sabrina who was clasping her former clothing to her body. His hands came into play and it looked as if he were directing an imaginary symphony. Just like before, her body changed, only this time, it inflated. Sabrina cried again, but it was a silent cry, and it didn't last very long.

After changing her back, Brandon spoke to Sabrina. "All right, you're back to where you were before, but there was one thing I changed."

"Brandon!" Sabrina protested.

"There was a mole behind your right knee that was starting to form a capsule. I heard that's when moles get dangerous. So that's history now."

All three of us laughed.

The following morning, as Brandon, Susan, and I walked up to the school's doors, we saw Sabrina running laps around the track before classes started.

*

A week later, Brandon and I had a substitute teacher in our history class. This wasn't a surprise for us as we knew Mr. Harker would be on his honeymoon with his new wife. I was a tad disappointed because he was hot and really commanded the class, which made him hotter, but despite all that, I was happy for him.

As we all piled in the classroom, we saw a Latina woman in a black pantsuit, matching coat, and a white blouse standing in front of the podium. The whiteboard behind her had the words, "Niccolò Machiavelli: Diplomat, Philosopher, Historian" written on it. She was just finishing arranging the desks into even rows, and the blinds were drawn. She was quite the looker in her serious business outfit with tan skin, a full figure, and coffee-colored hair that went down to the middle of her back. She looked to be in her mid-to-late 30s.

As we took our seats, the lady smiled at all of us but spent an extra second looking at me and my stepbrother. She then looked at her paper, and then made a face looking like she remembered something. She turned around and added, 'basketball player' to Niccolò Machiavelli's list of jobs. That got a few chuckles from us. Giggling at her own joke, she erased it with a smile.

"Good afternoon, class, nice to meet you." She then turned around and wrote her name, Mrs. Paola Cortana, on the board.

She drew a right-pointing arrow under her name and stood next to the arrow so it was pointed at her. That got a few more chuckles out of the class. Her voice sounded quite pretty, which made sense as the pretty voice matched her beautiful, curvy features, but there wasn't even a hint of a Latin accent.

"All right, my name is Mrs. Cortana, yes, just like the videogame character; sorry, but we don't get to choose our names in life. I'll be your substitute teacher while Mr. Harker is on his honeymoon. Uh, first, are there any questions you want to ask?"

"Yeah, why the super-serious pantsuit?" a smartass student rudely asked, but Mrs. Cortana didn't get angry or embarrassed. It didn't even seem to faze her at all. I looked at my stepbrother, but rather than looking amused or indifferent, he wore a look of puzzlement. I wondered why.

"Yeah, not bad, huh? I like it too, Mr...?" she said without missing a beat.

"Weisberg, Josh Weisberg," he said.

"Mr. Weisberg, thank you. You guys know who Michael Jordan is?" she asked the class but was looking at Josh. Everyone said yes or nodded their heads.

The teacher continued, "Probably the greatest basketball player of our time. Retired now. Whenever I see him on TV, he's almost always wearing a suit. Do you think anyone would ever not take him seriously?"

"No," the snotty kid said meekly. He was dressed like the most ridiculous wannabe hip-hop star.

"That's right. If you dress seriously, people tend to take you seriously. If you dress like a bum or a clown, people tend to treat you like a bum or a clown," she said, staring directly at Josh.

"Now, if that'll be all, let's get on with our history lesson." She said, curtly looking at Josh with a smile on her face. Josh didn't say a word.

Mrs. Cortana went on with her lesson about Niccolò Machiavelli. There were a few things I picked up from her lecture.

"It was Machiavelli who famously came up with the old 'the ends justify the means' phrase, and that justice could be achieved as a consequence. The other was that a leader should do whatever he or she needs to do to stay in power. As long as the ends result in the greatest good for the greatest number of people, you can be a tyrant, free from consequences, as long as the nation is stable and prosperous. But there is a problem with tyranny."

"Yeah, it sure sucks for the people," one student added. Mrs. Cortana nodded.

"Mhmm, you're right, it does suck for the people, but the other problem is that tyrants always have to watch their backs. They can't trust anyone, and they can never know true friendship or even love. Watch a movie called 'A Bronx Tale' starring Robert DeNiro and Chazz Palminteri. You'll see what I mean," the substitute said.

Given my new sexual orientation, seeing this new creature in our lives teach a class like an alpha female started making me juice in my jeans. My mind went to sexual places with her and Brandon in them. I glanced at my stepbrother, and the puzzled look was replaced with a naughty visage. I couldn't wait to see what he had in store for the three of us.

Another boy in our class raised his hand, and Mrs. Cortana called on him. "So why isn't Kim Jong Un and all his guys dead?" the boy asked.

"That's a very good question, sir, and there are several very complicated answers why, but it's a lot more than just Kim and his goons being assholes, and people not wanting to take it anymore," she explained, "but I am pretty sure the list of people he trusts is very short if it exists at all."

The class laughed again when she called Kim Jong Un an asshole, and a second later the bell rang signaling our dismissal.

"Okay, everyone, good class. Please read chapter four, pages 123 to 133, and do the three questions on page 133." She said as she quickly scribbled the assignment on the board and each student either wrote it down or quickly took a picture with their phones.

"Brandon and Terri, could you please stay after for a few minutes?" she said as she held the door open for the rest of the students.

We stayed where we were, smiling and looking at each other, and both of us undressed her with our eyes. Mrs. Cortana closed the door and locked it. She then turned to us and unbuttoned her coat, showing more of her blouse.

"Mrs. Cortana," Brandon said, "Would you please take off your coat, blouse, and bra, and show us your tits? We'd love to suck on them," my stepbrother politely asked and then promised.

Instead of complying, something completely different and unexpected happened. Mrs. Cortana balled her hands into fists tight as knots. The veins in her hands turned bright green and were glowing underneath her skin. The bulging veins extended up to her sleeved arms, then up her neck, and crawled up to her temples.

"Grrrr! Urrrrnn!" she grumbled loudly.

The veins continued to bulge and glow at her hands, arms, temples, and forehead while the lady grunted like she was trying to lift a 300-pound barbell. Brandon and I staggered backward and wore looks of utter terror. Then just as quickly, the veins in her arms and head regressed and Mrs. Cortana reverted into a person.

"No, I don't think I will," she said calmly.

She then pulled out a small pistol from behind her back and pointed it at my stepbrother!