“Crazy,” he agrees, catching my eye. Staring straight at me, while he continues to finger me under the table. He curves his fingers to drag across my G-spot, strokes them in and out in slow motions. His face gives nothing away. You’d only know he was up to something by the faint spark of mischief in his eye. “Time really does fly. And yet, with everything that changes, some things stay the same…”

I clench my pussy around his fingers, my jaw tightly clamped so I don’t gasp at the same time. He just grins wider and adds his thumb now, circling over my clit.

“Some things stay the same,” I agree, and I’m proud that my voice doesn’t waver this time. “Some things really do change, though.”

Dad is glancing back and forth between us, his brow slightly furrowed. I look away from Josh just in time to avoid an inquisition, and reach across the table, leaning hard into Josh’s hand as I do, to grab a piece of toast.

Josh takes my movement in turn, speeds up his thrusts, finger-fucking me faster now, and I lose track of the conversation once more, my hands fisted so tight around the toast that the edges turn to crumbs between my fingers.

Fuck. I’m going to come. I’m going to come right here at the table, in full view of both our parents, the last people in the world who should know what’s going on beneath their noses.

I take a huge gulp of orange juice that Susan poured for me. Use that as an excuse, and grab my napkin, pulling it to my face as I pretend to cough. Josh realizes what I’m doing and pushes his fingers deeper, harder, faster, his thumb stroking my clit with every thrust now. I keep coughing, or pretending to anyway, and Josh pats my back with his other hand as the orgasm finally hits, sweeps me away, makes my pussy muscles clench and spasm around his fingers.

I drop my napkin onto the table and inhale hard, force a wide smile and nod in response to Dad and Susan both asking if I’m okay, frowning with concern. And all the while, I can feel Josh’s fingers inside me, stroking every last inch of pleasure from me.

When he finally pulls them out, they come away in a rush, my pussy soaked now with lust.

I glare sideways at him as he casually wipes his fingers on his napkin under the table, then picks up his fork and helps himself to another serving of eggs.

It’s going to be a long, long summer.


A week after we finally started caving in to this addiction, Dad and Susan decide they want to host a party for the neighborhood. We don’t have too many neighbors, strictly speaking, but if you count all the cabins in this neck of the woods, you wind up with a pretty decent population. About 20 families all told, some of them with kids in tow, so that makes for an even larger get-together.

Dad is cooking, Susan playing hostess, and I surprise myself by even recognizing some of the older couples. The neighbors I used to run into at the corner store or exploring the neighborhood with Josh.

Mr. Johnson is there too, and he smiles and greets Josh and me by name. He’s the only one who doesn’t make some awkward comment.

“Look how grown up you two are! And my, didn’t you both turn out handsome and lovely,” one of the neighbors I recognized, Mrs. Hamilton, points out. She even goes so far as to pinch Josh’s cheeks. “What a sweet thing, your parents getting together. You make a lovely family.”

At that point, I have to excuse myself. I mumble an excuse about checking on Dad, but when I stumble past the fringes of the party, I skip right past the barbecue grill and keep on going.

I make it about halfway up the path on the far side of the lake, into the woods, when I hear footsteps behind me, jogging to catch up.

“You okay?”

I hesitate. Turn around to find Josh following me.

“I’m fine. Just a little weird seeing so many people, with… With our parents…” I gesture in the direction of the party.

He casts a glance over his shoulder too, nodding. I know he understands the feeling. What it’s like to be seen as family, as siblings. “I gotta admit, it’s pretty strange.” When he turns back around to face me though, he’s smirking. “Sis.”

I punch his shoulder. “Don’t you dare.”

“What’s the matter?” He lifts his eyebrows, wiggles them. “Don’t like me reminding you that you’re my little step-sister?” He steps closer, lowers his voice. “Is that because you’re still thinking about the way my cock felt in your mouth last night?”

My cheeks flare, red-hot. I glance over his shoulder too, instinctive. Making sure there’s no one close enough to hear, or to see how close we’re standing, or the way his hand drifts toward mine. Trails up my arm, from my wrist to the crook of my elbow, up over my bicep, until he’s cupping my cheek, and I’m leaning toward him, helpless against this pull between us.

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