Russian Roulette

"Hey," said Dylan. "On the bright side, this is better than the couch."

"Definitely," I said breathily, before grabbing Dylan to crash my lips against his. As we made out, he threw me onto the bed and there, we tore at each other's clothes as though we'd been starving for each other for years, eventually finding ourselves fully naked, and with Dylan above me, his entire muscled body in my full view.

"You're gonna fuck me missionary?" I said, chuckling. "That's surprisingly...religious, coming from a guy like you."

"Can't have you on top all the time." Dylan then plunged himself into me and began thrusting again, grunting every now and then as he felt the pleasure of the sensations overtake him. On my end, much to my surprise, I found myself getting much closer to orgasm than when I did when I was with Dylan's friends. Not to mention, when I moved my eyes to the mattress beneath me, I noticed the new wet spots being formed from our movements. Just when I was getting distracted by the wet spots, however, Dylan grabbed me by my thighs and bended down to stare me into my eyes.

"Hold still," he said, before kissing me deeply, with his tongue clashing against mine. As our duel raged on inside each other's mouths, Dylan proceeded to press further, thrusting faster and deeper into my womanhood, with the head of his cock rubbing against my clitoris every now and then.

"Y-You're gonna make me cum," I moaned.

"No one knows you better than family, am I right?" Silently reaching an agreement, Dylan slowed down his thrusting such that we were in sync with each other's movements. As this was done, he kissed my neck and pinched my nipples every now and then. God. He knows all my weak spots.

"Come on, step-sis," he whispered against my neck. "Cum with me." Overcome (for lack of a better word) with the sensations coursing over me -- over us -- me and Dylan climaxed together, writhing in each other's arms and shouting each other's names into the night sky. Once we were finished, Dylan collapsed on top of me, laying his head on my left breast.

"That was amazing," I whispered breathily. Exhausted, but satisfied, I had what could only be called the best sleep I had in years.

The next morning, I awoke with a start when I noticed how blurry my vision was, along with the heavy weight on my chest keeping me from getting up. When I moved my hand around to get a feel of where I was, I suddenly remembered all the debauchery from last night when it landed on Dylan's head, with him continuing to breath softly against my right nipple.

"Jeez, Dylan!" I whispered.

"'morning to you too, step-sis," he drowsily slurred. After a bit more struggling, I finally managed to lift him off my chest. I rose from bed and put on my glasses after I found them on the floor from almost stepping on them. Once they were on, I retrieved my shirt and my bra from under the bed and put those on as well. I then gazed at myself in the mirror on top of the dresser -- aside from the shirt and the bra, I was completely nude from the waist down. My womanhood and my thighs were stained with white, my skin glistened with sweat, and my hair was a complete mess.

"Last night was amazing, wasn't it? Not bad for a first time," said Dylan as he, too, started rising from bed.

"Y-Yeah, I guess." When I his reflection in the mirror, standing behind after having fully risen from bed, I felt my heartbeat race when I once again saw his full, naked body, glistening with sweat and emanating with masculine energy with all those outlines of muscle here and there.

"So," Dylan continued as he retrieved his own clothes from under the blankets. "Would you be down for breakfast before we get home?"

"Sure," I said, as I started to fix the post-coital curls of my hair.

"Great! You gave m -- us -- quite a workout last night. And I sure could use some food right now." We headed downstairs, where we found Jason, Samson, and Ben in their boxers, lying fast asleep on the living room couches.

"Hey, guys!" Dylan called out to them as we walked down the creaky staircase. "Wild night last night, huh?"

"Couldn't agree more, man!" said Ben, his eyes half-open as he got up from the couch.

"Yeah. Who knew Carrie could be such a nympho." I listened to Dylan and his friends talk about me (of all people) whilst I retrieved my clothes from the living room floor, I blushed; bubbling within me was a concoction of both embarrassment and pride, the latter of which felt otherworldly. New. And yet...pleasant. Upon putting back on all my clothes, I entered the boys' rather flattering chat with an air of confidence I never thought I would feel until now.

"Well," I said. "I don't think this is what my councilor meant when he said that I needed more 'experience', but this was certainly eye-opening for me."

"And your eyes weren't the only things that opened up to us last night," said Jason.

"T-That's for sure," I responded, chuckling sheepishly. After a few more goodbyes, and the aforementioned ritual of Jason kissing my cheek, me and Dylan left the run-down house feeling as lively as the morning sun shining brightly above in the clear, cloudless sky.

"Hey, you think we'll still have enough time for breakfast?" I asked as the two of us fastened our seatbelts. In a haste with a sense of excitement in his movements, Dylan checked his phone for the time.

"Yeah. Definitely," he said. "And even if we are late, you're a pretty smooth liar right?"

"I guess."

After about fifteen minutes spent on the road, we stopped at a diner some several miles or so from the run-down house. There, Dylan treated the both of us to a full breakfast -- coffee, orange juice, pancakes, scrambled eggs, hash browns, and most interestingly -- maple sausages.

"Good, isn't it?" he said through a mouthful of pancake.

"So good," I said in slight absentmindedness as I stared down at the piece of sausage on my fork before eating it, savoring the sweetness and the saltiness of the greasy, cured meat. Once we were done with breakfast, we hopped back onto the streets, and then stopped in an empty parking garage.

"Figured I'd stop for some dessert before heading home," said Dylan as he tugged down on his zipper. "You game?"

Still feeling hungry, I went right to work and helped him with the zipper before pulling out his manhood; it stood at full attention before my face, almost pressing against my lips. Without another word, I kissed it again on the tip, and then made a series of more kisses along the shaft before making my way back up. With my head hovering over the tip, I then made my way back down as I took him into my mouth and down my throat, just as I did last night.

"Aw, yes!" Dylan hissed. "You're really good at that. And your throat still feels tight around my cock." Let's see how much you can take it then. Feeling prideful and liberated in embracing my inner slut, I took Dylan even deeper down my throat until I once more felt his pelvis press against my nose whilst his cock felt like it was about to enter my stomach. With my eyes still open, but tearing from the intensity of the sensations, I raised my hand to give him a thumbs up.

"W-What?" Dylan spluttered. "Y-You want to..." Guiding him, I grabbed his hand and placed it on the back of my head. If this doesn't tell you what I want, I don't know what will.

"Oh!" he said, and fittingly enough, his mouth even formed a perfect O as he said this. Without a moment's hesitation, he grabbed my head and face-fucked me, his legs writhing with pleasure.

"I'm gonna mold your throat into the shape of my cock by the time we're done, Carrie," he said. God, I hope that happens. I then stuck my tongue whilst Dylan's cock was still in my mouth, and proceeded to lap away at his balls, making him groan even louder. A short moment later, I also tasted the surprisingly pleasant saltiness of his pre-cum.

"In my throat, Dylan. Cum inside it," I managed through say whilst gagging and drooling all over his cock, drenching it in my spit.

"Heh! That's rather unladylike, isn't it? Talking through a mouthful like that." Feeling himself about to cum within just seconds, he then pulled himself out of my mouth and began stroking against my glasses.

"You've no idea how long I've wanted to do this," he said. Despite the warning, I winced when in less than a second, more of his cum erupted from him in long ropes, covering my face and glasses completely, whilst black, makeup-stained tears streamed down my face. Once he was done, he then put himself back in his pants. I'm definitely fingering myself to this once we get home.

Once his pants were all buckled up, he spoke again. "Enjoyed your dessert?" he asked.

"Yep. Definitely."

The rest of the drive home was spent in silence. Not a single word was spoken between us, and yet, it was a pleasant silence -- it was the type of silence you'd typically see with couples who'd been together for years, and already, I was seeing myself with Dylan for a very long time, even if only as his player two in the bedroom, and his step-sister outside it. And when I saw my reflection on the windshield, I saw a glow emanating from my face as I felt more satisfied than how I'd feel after my usual summer vacations, usually spent reading and studying for next set of classes. This time, however, my summer vacation now had become one of self-discovery and liberation.

Once we finally arrived home, it then dawned on me all of a sudden -- how I played that debauched game last night.

"Shit."

"What?" asked Dylan.

"I should've turned down you and your friends last night. We didn't use protection for fuck's sake! And I did you and your three buddies -- that's four guys! I could get...something, or just like how that game goes, I could be..."

Dylan gently clasped my chin with his thumb, index, and middle finger, turning me to face him, to stare his eyes into my own.

"Look," he murmured. "All of us were clean, so it's unlikely any of us ever caught something. As for that game...whatever happens, I'll take care of us." He then kissed me again; this time, it was a longer, softer one, as assurance, before pulling back for air. "I promise."

When we finally got inside, the two of us collapsed onto the living room sofas, tired, but more refreshed than ever. Meanwhile, Dylan grabbed the T.V. remote from under the couch cushions and tuned our flatscreen on to the college football channel, which I watched along with him with only the least amount of interest I could muster.

"There you guys are!" said Mom as she looked down on us from the railing upstairs. She was clutching onto the towel wrapped around her, having just had her morning shower, what with the moisture accentuating the smoothness of her complexion. For a moment, a pang of jealousy hit me before disappearing the moment it came. No need to be jealous. You sure showed them how you're so much more than a bookworm.

"I thought someone came in, but didn't think it was you two," she continued. "You guys are pretty late."

"We had a good time, Mom," I explained.

"We sure did," Dylan concurred with his usual smugness. "Carrie actually learned a lot from our little get-together last night. Am I right?" He then turned to me, his smile all cocky, but with a certain warmth I'd come to appreciate.

You sure are, step-bro. You sure are.