Sibling Rivalry Pt. 01 Ch. 01

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Several things. First, this is a story about step-siblings having sex. Not real brother and sister, but if that's not your thing, don't read. Second, it's a slow burn. I believe that good erotica needs a good story behind it, and a story is heavily dependent on character, which needs to be developed. The sex is coming, and I think you'll enjoy it, but be patient. And last, mind the tags; while there's no anal sex in this, there is some anal play, so again, if that's a complete turnoff, don't read.

"Jesus, who was that?" Brandon said after Katie stopped in the kitchen, grabbed something from the fridge, then headed back upstairs to her room. Chuck and Brandon were Steve's old friends from high school, but they'd all gone to different colleges. They were all home for the Christmas break, and they'd dropped by to watch the game.

"Katie." Steve said as he leaned forward and grabbed a handful of chips.

"Katie? That's Katie? Your stepsister?"

"Yeah, why."

"'Why? Why?' Hey, Chuck, help me out here. You see what just walked by?

Chuck nodded. "Saw it, dude. Girl's a stone fox." They'd both stayed at college with jobs over the summer, so they hadn't seen her in a year and a half. "Wasn't bad a year or so ago, not like you'd have to throw a flag over her face and fuck her for Old Glory or anything, but this ..."

Steve ignored them and sat up as the quarterback launched a missile down the right sideline. Steve groaned as the ball skidded off the receiver's fingers. "Gotta catch that one," he muttered.

Brandon just stared at him. "Hey, Chuck, check his pulse, see if he's dead."

"I ain't touchin' him. Dude's gone queer on us."

Steve looked at them. "What the hell are you two talking about?"

Brandon rolled his eyes. "Man, gorgeous little chick with a killer bod walks into the room and you act like it's Grandma Moses."

Chuck took a swig of his beer. "Had to stay in a house with that, I'd have wood all day long."

Brandon stared at Steve, his eyes narrowing. "Don't tell me that you're tapping that." He sat up straight, looking like he'd just solved a murder. "That's it, isn't it? Is that why you're watching a football game while the tightest little ass I've seen in the last five years walks by? You two got something going on and don't want anybody to know?"

Steve leaned forward and pressed his palm against his forehead. He slowly shook his head and raised it, looked sheepishly at the two of them, and let out a long sigh. "Okay, you got me. We've been doing it for about six months now."

Brandon's eyes were wide open, and even Chuck, whose normal range of emotional expression ran the gamut from indifferent to comatose, had perked up. "So spill," Brandon finally said. "Details."

"Yeah." Chuck now. "What's it like getting into that hot little box?"

Steve shrugged. "Well, usually I just bend her over the dining room table and go balls-deep while the folks are eating dinner, but then last week I made her blow me in church." From their expressions, the frightening thought dawned on Steve that they didn't realize he was kidding. "What the fuck is wrong with you two!" he shouted. "She's my stepsister, for Chrissake."

Chuck shrugged and took a swig of beer. "Dude, she was my real sister I'd be boning her. Hey, think you can fix me up?"

"You're not dating my stepsister, Chuck." He wasn't being protective of Katie. HeH was being protective of Chuck. Katie was eighteen going on twenty-five, and seemed intent on proving that the sharpest cutting instrument known to humankind was a woman's tongue. Two minutes of his macho bullshit and he'd find himself curled up on the side of the road, crying like a bitch and not even knowing what hit him, his masculinity lying in a nearby ditch, neatly drawn and quartered.

Steve was rinsing the glasses after they'd left when Katie walked into the kitchen. She tossed the sandwich wrapping in the garbage and said, "You know, it's amazing how sound carries in this house."

Oh, shit. Steve braced himself. He had an idea of what was coming, and Katie didn't disappoint. She smiled at him, and he swore he could see the sarcasm dripping off her chin. "'Balls-deep,' huh? What a lovely expression. Misogynist much? Oh, and don't bother trying to hook me up with Chuck." Her expression turned to one of withering scorn. "He sounds like an even bigger asshole than you are."

She started to walk away, then thought better of it. She turned and smiled sweetly. "But that Brandon is a real keeper. I bet he wouldn't make me blow him in church."

In a different world, something might have happened between Steve and Katie. They were both attractive people. Steve was six feet tall with body that was well-toned, but not too muscular, and a handsome, fuck-boy face. Katie was a little on the short side, just 5'3", but her shoulder-length curly brown hair framed an adorably cute face, her hazel-blue eyes undoubtedly her best feature. And, as Chuck and Brandon had observed, she looked really good in just a t-shirt and jean shorts. Or in just about anything.

So yes, in a different world something might have happened between them.

There was one problem: they hated each other's last gut.

Steve was no dummy, Dean's List and headed for law school in two years, but whenever the two of them argued - meaning when they spent more than three minutes together - Steve knew he had to bring his A game. He remembered one brutal encounter when they'd been arguing about gender pay equity, and Katie had shut him down by telling him, "Do you know there are more men named John on the Fortune 500 than there are women?"

Every course Katie was taking her senior year in high school had an AP in front of it: advanced placement calculus, advanced placement English, advanced placement biology ... hell, she was probably taking advanced placement gym for all Steve knew.

But he was pretty sure she'd also snuck in a course in advanced placement bitchiness somewhere along the way. Being a smart, pretty teen-age girl isn't exactly a humbling experience. She wasn't mean to other girls, but boys were a different matter. She didn't have much dating experience, mainly because she intimidated the hell out of the other boys in her school. She even chased away the one college kid she'd gone out with a couple of times. She was currently dating some guy named Brian for about three months, the longest relationship she'd had. Katie didn't suffer fools gladly, or much at all.

So when Steve's father called a couple of months later and said that Katie had gotten accepted at State, his immediate thought was to fervently wish for that campus expansion they'd been promising so she could be as far away from him as possible. Opening a satellite campus in, say, Idaho or Uzbekistan, would do, too. Dad interrupted that thought by telling Steve that Katie and her friend Gabbie, who'd also gotten in, wanted to come up to visit the campus to scope it out, and that Katie needed somewhere to stay. That was a problem, Dad explained; the hotels were locked up with the big basketball tournament that weekend. "Can she stay with you? You said Rick always spends the weekend with his girlfriend."

At first Steve thought he meant Gabbie. That didn't sound bad at all. Steve had met Gabbie a few times over the past summer; she was a hot blonde with a set of the nicest breasts in the Western Hemisphere. And she knew it. Her customary attire ran to what Katie referred to as "boob shirts," which displayed enough cleavage to hide a small puppy in. So, yeah, I would have no problem with spending the weekend taking Gabbie to Poundtown, as Chuck would have delicately put it.

Then a shudder coursed through Steve as he realized his father was talking about Katie. Yes, Steve's roommate Rick was absent on weekends, preferring the company of his girlfriend, but Steve would have chosen an Apache torture session over having to put up with Katie for two days.

His resolve melted when his father put Katie's mother Gloria on the phone. Gloria was the sweetest woman Steve had ever met. Steve was convinced that Katie was adopted, or that Gloria had borne her in some kind of Omen-like fashion; Katie as the spawn of Satan sounded about right. But Gloria explained in gentle, caressing tones that this was really important for Katie, and Steve finally relented, although he had serious doubts that the two of them could spend 48 hours in the same apartment without exchanging gunfire.

Katie, it turned out, was equally unenthusiastic about the arrangement. When Steve's father and her mother broached the subject, Katie's response was, "Are you crazy? I'd rather be homeless for two days than stay in his apartment."

"Oh, honey, it's just for a couple of days."

Paul gently chided. "Why can't you two just get along?"

"Because he's arrogant and obnoxious, and he treats me like I'm twelve."

"Well, you're not the easiest -" Paul started to say, but a warning glance from Gloria shut that conversation thread down.

But there wasn't much of an alternative. Katie had gotten early placement at State, but that meant she had to let them know by the end of the month, just a couple of weeks away. She wanted to make sure she made the right decision about college. And on the bright side, she thought, she could use her background in biology to spend the next few days figuring out what poisons don't show up on a tox screen.

She and Gabbie arrived early Friday afternoon. Katie had given some thought to hooking Steve up with Gabbie for the weekend so that she could get out of staying with him. Gabbie was sweet and much smarter than the big-breasted airhead blonde that most guys took her for, but she wasn't exactly discriminating when it came to sex. As Katie heard one guy put it when Gabbie was elected Prom Queen last year, "Gabbie puts the prom back into promiscuity." And Gabbie had told Katie on several occasions that she found Steve to be "super-hot."

But Katie realized that pairing wasn't going to work. It's not like she could stay with Gabbie's sister, and to her the only thing worse than staying in Steve's apartment for the weekend was staying in Steve's apartment for the weekend while she spent the night listening to him fucking her friend.

Things didn't go badly after they arrived, mainly because Steve and Katie stayed away from each other. Katie had some interviews that afternoon, and she and Gabbie went out Friday night. When Katie crept back into the apartment sometime after midnight, she could hear Steve snoring as she snuck by his bedroom door, apparently - thank God! - alone. He was gone by the time she woke up on Saturday, and she and Gabbie had scored tickets for the game, so she didn't see Steve again until Saturday night.

She wouldn't be seeing much of him then, either; some guys they'd met at the game had invited them to a frat party. Gabbie showed up at eight, and to Katie's surprise - and Steve's obvious sorrow - she was somewhat modestly attired. If you could call a tight pair of jeans and a v-necked striped t-shirt modest, that is. Then again, Gabbie had the kind of figure that would attract attention if she'd been wearing a nun's habit.

Steve's eyes almost popped out of his head when Katie came out of Rick's room. Even she had to admit she'd overdone things a tad. She was wearing a halter top that, while it didn't display Gabbie-esqe cleavage, wouldn't have people averting their eyes in disgust and loathing, either. The top was complemented by a tiny skirt that hugged her hips about two inches below her bare navel and ended halfway down her thighs.

"Slut much?" said Steve. "Look, you can't wear that."

"Really? Why not?"

"Because this is a fraternity party. Ever been to a frat party? God, you can literally smell the testosterone in the room."

"Well, I don't need you to tell me what to wear. I just happened to check my birth certificate, and it turns out you're not my father."

"Good luck getting laid, Katie," Steve called cheerily after them as they walked out the door.

Katie turned to him, smiled sweetly, and said, "You don't really think I'll need any, do you?"

Katie wasn't quite sure when it all started to go wrong. She'd started flirting with this cute guy, Eric, but by the fourth beer, she knew she'd had too much to drink. Gabbie had already left with someone, and Eric was getting pretty handsy, talking about going upstairs to where she knew the bedrooms were. She was a little too out of her comfort zone and not nearly enough of a slut to go along with that. She pushed his hand off her ass and said, "Look, I probably should get going."

"Hey, just have one more drink."

She was tempted to bolt when he went off to the bar, but before she could, he was back with a glass of amber liquid. "What's that?" she asked.

"Just some bourbon. Try it, you'll like it," he said as he proffered the glass.

And just as she reached for it, a hand shot out and grabbed Eric's arm. "What did you put in her drink?"

Fuck, it was Steve!

"Nothing," Eric said, trying to pull away.

Several other frat members began to crowd around. Kevin, the guy Katie had been introduced to as the frat president, was the first to talk. "What's going on here?"

"He put something in her drink," Steve said evenly.

"No, I didn't," insisted Eric.

"Then why don't you take a sip of it," said Steve.

Eric was slow to answer, and Kevin's focus on him became narrower. "The girl's seventeen," Steve continued, "and I'm pretty sure you're not keen on the house being investigated for raping a minor." That wasn't true; Katie had turned eighteen in November, but it's not like they were carding anyone, Steve knew.

Kevin said quietly, a glare fixed at Eric. "So are you going to take a sip like the man said?"

Eric looked away from him and stared at Steve with pure hatred. "Forget it, man," he mumbled as he walked away.

Kevin turned to Steve. "Listen, I think it'd be better if you and your girlfriend got out of here."

Steve gently took Katie's arm. She yanked it away and turned to Kevin. "I'm not his girlfriend!" she spat, then stomped out of the house, Steve following.

When they'd gotten outside, she spun around. "What the hell are you doing here?" she demanded.

"Making sure nothing happened to you."

"I can take care of myself!"

"Yeah, and how was that working out?"

If this had been a cartoon, steam would have been coming out of Katie's ears. She stalked away, Steve trailing behind her, all the way back to the apartment. He tried to unlock the door, but she pushed his hand away and opened it herself, then strode into Rick's bedroom and slammed the door behind her.

That'll show him, she thought, though not sure of what.