STORY 1 - NIGHTTIME WITH MY STEPBROTHER AND HIS FRIENDS (II)

Hands grip my knees and gently part them. Wide. Wider. Until I’m completely exposed, my most private parts on display for four sets of hungry eyes in the darkness of my childhood bedroom. “She’s so wet,” Tyler whispers. “Look – it’s on her thighs. It’s f*****g everywhere. She was definitely dreaming about something.” You, I think, fighting to keep my breathing steady. I was dreaming about you. About all of you. About exactly this. “Spread her more,” Jack breathes. “I want to see everything.” More hands. Pushing my thighs apart until they’re practically flat against the mattress, until my p***y is completely open, glistening in whatever faint light is filtering through the curtains. I can feel how exposed I am – how obscenely displayed – and my cunt clenches around nothing, desperate and empty and aching. “Holy fuck.” Marcus sounds reverent. “Look at her. She’s perfect. Pink and swollen and... f**k, I can see her c**t throbbing.” “Touch it.” A finger makes contact. Right on my p***y, sliding through the wetness that’s been building since I heard them talking through the wall. The finger traces my slit slowly – up, down, up again – gathering my arousal, spreading it around. I almost break. Almost moan. Almost grab that hand and shove it inside me where I need it. Almost abandon this game and beg them to f**k me already. Instead, I stay limp. Stay asleep. Let them think they’re getting away with something. “She’s dripping,” the finger’s owner – Marcus, I’m sure now – reports, his voice thick with want. “Like, actually dripping. There’s a wet spot on the sheets already.” “Is she always like this?” Jack asks. “I don’t know.” Ethan’s voice is rough. Strained. Close – closer than I expected. “I’ve never... I mean, we’re not...” “Well, you’re about to find out.” The finger pushes inside me. One thick digit sinking into my cunt without warning, and I have to bite my tongue bloody to keep from gasping because it’s been so long since anyone touched me there, so long since I’ve had anything but my own hand, and this finger is bigger than mine, rougher, reaching deeper. “Tight,” Marcus breathes. “Jesus Christ, she’s tight. Like she hasn’t been f****d in months.” Try ever, I want to say. I’ve never been f****d. Not really. Not like this. But I stay silent. Stay asleep. Stay perfectly, impossibly still while a boy fingers my p***y in the dark. “She’s awake,” someone hisses suddenly. Everyone freezes. My heart stops. “No, look – she didn’t move. She’s still asleep.” “Her breathing changed.” “No, it didn’t. You’re paranoid. She’s completely out.” A tense pause. I force myself to take slow, even breaths. In. Out. In. Out. The rhythm of deep sleep. Nothing to see here. Just an unconscious girl. Just a body to be used. “See?” Ethan’s whisper cuts through the silence. “She’s fine. Keep going.” The finger starts to move. In and out. Slow and gentle, testing my body’s reactions, feeling how I grip and clench around the intrusion. Marcus is thorough – curling his finger, searching, exploring every inch of my inner walls like he’s mapping territory he plans to conquer. “Add another one,” someone suggests. “See how much she can take.” Two fingers now. Stretching me. Scissoring inside me. Preparing me for something bigger, something I can hear them unzipping, something I’ve been imagining for hours. “She’s so f*****g wet,” Marcus marvels, pumping his fingers faster. “I can hear it. Hear how wet she is. Her cunt is making noises.” He’s right. The obscene squelch of his fingers f*****g my soaked p***y fills the quiet room, and I would be embarrassed if I weren’t so turned on I can barely think. “Let me feel,” Jack says. The fingers withdraw – I almost whine at the emptiness – and then different fingers push inside. Rougher. More aggressive. Jack doesn’t explore; he takes. Shoves two fingers deep and starts f*****g me with them, fast and hard, while his thumb presses against my c**t. “She likes that,” Tyler observes quietly. “Look – her n*****s are getting hard.” “She’s sleeping. She doesn’t know what she likes right now.” “Her body does.” Jack’s thumb rubs circles on my c**t while his fingers pump in and out, and I’m going to c*m if he doesn’t stop, going to c*m on his hand before any of them even get their c***s inside me – He stops. Pulls his fingers out. I hear him suck them clean – taste me on them – and groan low in his throat. “I can’t wait anymore,” he says. “I need to f**k her.” A zipper. Rustling fabric. The mattress shifting as someone positions himself between my spread legs. “Be gentle,” Ethan warns. “We don’t want to wake her.” “I know, I know.” But Jack doesn’t sound like he’s planning to be gentle. He sounds desperate. Hungry. Like he’s been waiting for this moment since he first saw me in that bikini by the pool. Something hot and hard presses against my entrance. The head of his c**k, nudging my p***y lips apart, seeking my opening. I can feel him there – right there – about to push inside me, about to fill me, about to take me while I pretend to sleep.