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My Master Down the Hall Ch. 01

By: TheWorldSpins



There was a time when I thought I'd never tell anyone about what happened between me and my stepbrother, not even my best friend. Time can change a lot, though, and here I am, ready to spill my secrets to the world (anonymously, of course).

I guess I should start by describing myself a bit. My name is Rose Waters, and I'm 20 now, though I had just turned 18 when most of the stuff in this story happened. I'm not a 6'0" tall blonde with big tits, so if that's the only kind of girl you care about, I might seem a little boring. There's a lot about me that is pretty average. I'm a bit under 5'5". I'm not telling you how much I weigh, but let's just say I've been called "bony" more than a few times in my life. I have auburn hair that I've always kept short; for the past few years I've had it a little longer, in a bob with long bangs that I think looks pretty cute—not to brag. 

I wear glasses, always; I can't stand contacts for some reason, so I'm stuck with my glasses. At least now my nerdy black frames are suddenly cool. Like most redheads, my skin is pretty fair, and I've got some freckles on my cheeks—I hate those, by the way. To me, my chubby cheeks make me look like a little kid, but Gabe always said they were cute.

Gabe: that's who this story is about. I mean, it's about me and Gabe, but the part about me would be boring and lame if it wasn't for the Gabe part. Gabriel Jose McKinney: my step-brother. I'm skipping ahead to even talk about him, but since I'm writing about him, I thought it was only fair. If the last name seems weird, it's because Gabe's mom was Cuban, and I guess she won the coin flip to name him.

If you never heard his name, you probably wouldn't know he had a Cuban mom. Well, I guess a lot of Cubans are pretty fair-skinned, so maybe you could. He's pretty tall, about 6'3", lean, but totally in shape from playing sports growing up. Nowadays you're more likely to find him holding a guitar than a baseball bat, though, which is all the better for me. I never really liked those sports guys too much, especially since they were usually pretty mean to me. Gabe had kind of medium-length black hair, and if it wasn't too long, he liked to spike it up. He had the most gorgeous brown eyes that just had a kind of sparkle that it's hard to describe. Maybe if you've ever been in love with somebody, you've seen that look too.

I should back up, though, because things won't make sense if you don't know what it was like before my mom married Gabe's dad and I first met my step-brother. My real dad's named Ed, and he's an IT guy for a company in another town about fifty miles away. We talk a couple of times a year now, but for a long time I never saw him. Even when my parents were together, it seemed like he was never around, never had any time for me and my mom. 

I learned too young the reason for that: he was having an affair with a woman at his old job, the one he had when he was married to my mom. Her name was Karen, and she ruined my life, though it took years for my mom to find out about her. She filed for divorce pretty soon after. I guess looking back I'm proud of her for not putting up with his shit.

I was only eight when my dad left, but I was old enough to understand what had happened, or at least what I thought had happened. I heard enough of my parents' fights in the last few months of their marriage to know that my mom wasn't "satisfying" my dad anymore. Evidently, his new girlfriend Karen did things for him that my mom never would. Of course I didn't really understand what that meant at the time, but I guess I always remembered that as a kind of fucked-up lesson: if you don't satisfy a man, he'll leave you behind.

After the divorce, we moved into a cracker-box house, and my mom became kind of a zombie. I mean, she went to work, took me to school, and went to the store and all. She didn't become a drunk or try to kill herself. Nevertheless, she seemed to kind of...give up, I guess. She stopped trying to dress nice, she never wore makeup, and we never went anywhere for fun anymore. She always said she was tired after work, so we usually just watched TV together at night.

I was always shy as a kid, and I never talked to boys. I had a few friends, but my only close friend was Natalie, possibly the only person in the world more introverted than me. We could talk about anything with each other—I guess you don't have to worry about gossip when both of you only have one real friend. In any event, things were pretty OK until I moved on to middle school. That's when my life took a dramatic turn for the worse.

It started out with one girl hating me, for no reason I could tell. To be honest, I can't even remember who it was. Then it was all of her friends, then their friends. If enough people hate you, then it's easier for other people to just go along. Nobody stops and asks why they're treating another person like crap—they just go along. That's how it was at my new school. The ringleader was this girl, Ashley Moore, but really it just seemed it everyone was in on it. My clothes were too tacky, my hair made me look like a boy, I was too skinny, too fat, too smart, too dumb. Nothing I did seemed right anymore, and I just believed all the awful shit they would say about me. Suddenly nobody talked to me between classes or at lunch.

It pains me to tell this story, but I think it's important to understand. I was only in sixth grade at the time, and Ashley and one of her minions splashed water on the front of my pants in the bathroom and told everybody that I'd peed my pants. Now, that might not seem like the worst bullying of all time, and I admit it's not. But I walked around ashamed all day, and not just because people thought I'd wet myself. It's hard to explain, but in my screwed up brain, I really started to feel like I had done it. I convinced myself kind of that I was to blame. I guess you can say I had an active imagination, but when people said mean things about me, I just took it really hard, like it was true even if deep down I knew it wasn't. I just couldn't toughen up against that kind of thing, and I spent a lot of time alone, crying to myself when I was younger. Yeah, I know, pathetic, right?

The worst part was that all of this was happening at an age where I started to have feelings for guys. There's one more thing you need to know about me, something that I've always known about myself, even if I couldn't do anything about it. In most situations, I'm reserved, shy, a wallflower: you get the idea. But I have this impulsive streak. It's like I get wound up too tight and then just do something crazy without thinking about it. It's gotten me into trouble more than once—let's just say I "allegedly" pushed a girl off the monkey bars on the playground once for insulting my lunchbox in first grade.

So one day in, like, seventh grade, I got sick of being alternately ignored or ridiculed. I wanted a boyfriend so bad, but I had no idea how to actually get one. I have no clue what was going through my hormone-addled mind, but I went up to this guy that I had been daydreaming about all year. I'll never forget his name: Ben Michaels. He was this skater-type guy, with long shaggy blonde hair and a gorgeous face. He always wore these skater hoodies and baggy pants that I thought at the time were so cool. Without any warm-up at all, I asked him to go to the seventh grade formal with me, and then...I kissed him. In the lunchroom. In front of everyone.

Needless to say, that didn't end well. Now, instead of being just a hopeless loser, I suddenly became the school's biggest slut. I wasn't even fourteen yet, I had my first kiss in front of what seemed like the whole school, and kids were whispering behind my back about things I wouldn't have even understood at the time. 

For whatever reason, having the other kids call me "slut" was worse than anything that had come before. Of course, stupid me, I thought they were right, that the sexual feelings and thoughts I was beginning to have proved I was a slut, doomed to social mockery forever. I thought it might end after that year, but when I came back for eighth grade, it had gotten even worse. Of course I was totally a virgin. I couldn't even imagine what sex was like, but it didn't matter. Kids can be so mean.

I heard things about myself that I didn't know existed. Supposedly, I only got an A in Mr. White's chemistry class because I gave him a blowjob. (So not true! I rocked at chemistry.) I only faintly knew what that meant. Thank god for Urban Dictionary!

In school, I started trying to counteract my reputation. I never wore anything even remotely revealing. Hell, I never even wanted to look cute. I tried not to talk to boys, especially cute ones. I made myself become the world's biggest prude, and it never made a difference. No matter how hard I tried, the evil bitches at school spread stories about me and isolated me in a little bubble by myself. Outside of Natalie, who was only spared the torment by being completely invisible to everyone, all of my friends were in books for a long time.

It was towards the middle of my eighth grade year that my mom started dating Emmett, Gabe's dad. She started to wear skirts and dresses again, put on make-up, even go out on dates after work. It was like she got a shot of energy and life again. I was happy for her, even though there were things about him I didn't really like at first.

Emmett was a pretty big, burly guy—not fat, and not some kind of body-builder, but a really solidly-built man. He was a contractor for home renovations and repairs. I think he had started in the actual building stuff side, before moving to doing more sales and estimates and owning a chunk of the company. He was a lot more religious and conservative than my mom and me. While I never had to go to church with him or anything, my mom started to go with him. He was also kind of traditional in other ways. It was subtle at first, but I noticed acting more and more like the "little woman" of the house, having him do manly things like mow our grass, while she fixed him dinner and cleaned up after him.

In the beginning, I kind of thought that Emmett was a male chauvinist, I guess, but he always treated me well, and my mom seemed happy. He seemed to find me totally weird, since I didn't like girly dress up and shopping and preferred solitude and a copy of Tolstoy or Jane Austen. His way of looking at things might have been old-fashioned, but at least he wasn't out screwing around on my mom. Oh, speaking of screwing—I totally figured it out later that that was the reason she was so much perkier and livelier. I never really caught them, but I could hear things at night over the music they would play that must have been my mom sounding pretty satisfied.

Anyway, after only a couple of months, my mom sat me down and told me that she and Emmett were going to get married and that we would be moving in to a new house together as a family. It was all pretty sudden, but since pretty much everything was an improvement—the house, my mom's mood, our finances—I couldn't really complain.

The one thing that was weird was that I hadn't met his son before. I only saw Gabe for the first time when he was helping his dad carry in all the heavy furniture. Seeing him carrying sofas and armoires around with his dad, it made him look so masculine. For me, he just had "it": he was beautiful (he'd hate it if I called him that) but also strong, manly, and powerful. Even though Gabe wasn't much older, he always seemed totally in charge and way more adult than he really was in my head.

It's safe to say I had one of those classic schoolgirl crushes on Gabe immediately. Of course, I was only 15, so I didn't do anything about it. He was going to be my brother—step-brother, though. To be honest, I never really felt a big "taboo" about having a crush on Gabe. Maybe it would have been different if we were blood related. I knew my mom would freak if I told her how I felt, though. I didn't even tell Natalie. But inside, I didn't think there was anything wrong about how I felt. To tell you the truth, I actually liked the fact that my crush was also, in a way, going to be my brother.

Over time, those feelings only grew. Gabe was only a little older than me, and we were in the same grade. We had all moved in together during the summer, and Gabe was leaving his old school to attend high school in our town. I was terrified that once he saw how the other kids treated me, he'd join in, and suddenly I would be tortured at home as well as at school. What would he think of me after hearing about all my imaginary acts of slutty behavior? 

Once I got in high school, though, things suddenly started to get better for me. For that, Gabe was responsible. Even though being around me probably caused a few eyebrows to raise, he never treated me bad or ignored me in school. 

I remember one time, when Ashley and her group were taunting me for wearing clothes from Goodwill (my clothes were from Old Navy, same as theirs, but I guess on me the clothes suddenly became shittier). Gabe walked right up to me and told me how much fun he had hanging out with me the night before, and how we should do it again. We hadn't hung out the night before at all. He had been out on a date. He had just done it to help me out, and suddenly, girls like Ashley who had the same crush on Gabe that I did were treating me like a human being for the first time, undoubtedly trying to use me to get closer to my brother.

Since Gabe was my brother, he was a guy I could hang around without girls insinuating dirty things about me. I don't want to exaggerate—most of the time, he hung with his friends and I was left at home. When he would take me places, though, like to his band practice or to grab a bite to eat, it felt almost like a date to me. I mean, I had never gone places with a hot guy who was nice to me. I just wanted him to notice me, to like me the way I liked him. I was way, way too scared to ever say anything to him, though.

One time, I remember trying to feel him out. Our parents were out on a date night, and we went to go eat Chinese, since we were out of food.

"So Gabe, tell me about Wendy," I asked him coyly.

Wendy was the latest of Gabe's string of medium-term girlfriends. He was a total serial dater for the whole time I had known him.

"She's cool, I guess," he responded, always trying to play it cool.

"What do you guys, like, do?" I asked, trying of course to pry into his business.

"Just hang, mostly, watch TV, the usual shit."

"So nothing special then, huh? Well you and I watch TV, hang, even eat Chinese food together," I said, emphasizing the last bit about eating together as if it was a big deal. "I guess that means we're dating then, right?"

Gabe just laughed.

"Well, sis, there's some other things that come along with dating that you and me just can't do. Breaks me up inside..."

I hated that he had brushed the idea off, even though I knew that would be the only possible response.

"Well, what if I wasn't your sister, though. Would you go out with me then?"

I fully expected him to answer with some kind of bullshit, "Aw, sis you'll make some lucky guy happy" kind of answer, but to my surprise, he really seemed to think about it.

"No," he said. "Your tits just aren't big enough."

He kept a straight face for almost ten seconds, watching me look mortified, before breaking into a huge grin and laughing. I remember punching him on the arm and asking if that was all guys care about.

"Look, if you want a friend, a guy can totally be a good friend to a girl. But to be a guy's girlfriend means more than that. I guess it's just seeing a girl in a certain way, like in a special way, that has a lot to do with sex but is also, I don't know, about love."

I was floored that Mr. Play-it-cool got so serious with me. He also didn't explicitly say that he would never see me in that special way, just that he didn't. I was going to have to make him see me differently, though at the time I had no idea how to do that, nor did I know if I was even ready for something to big like that.

I guess I should get to the part everyone wants to read. Sorry if I rambled too much before. Anyway, it went on like that for a couple of years. School got, if not good, at least better. I was doing well, and aiming for a good college with a scholarship. Gabe had his friends, the occasional girlfriend (which I hated of course), his band, and lacrosse. 

Where was I? Working up my courage. Gabe had joked at my eighteenth birthday party that the guys at school would have to look out now that I was legal. Very funny: I knew he didn't really see me that way.

Something about being "legal," though, made my crush turn into full-blown sex fantasies. My first full-blown fantasy about Gabe: I imagined him punishing me for my whorish ways by forcing me to be his personal sex slave. He'd come into my room and confront me over some rumor going around school. 

"Hey you little slut," he'd say. "You can't keep blowing all my friends." 

Then he'd take me for his own pleasure, to teach me not to give it up to anyone but him. Sadly, my fantasies were pretty limited, given my own total lack of experience. Of course, I took fantasies like this to be more evidence that the mean girls at school were right, and there really was something wrong with me. I knew I could never tell anyone about those thoughts in my head.

My fantasy life grew exponentially over the course of a few weeks; it was like a dam had burst. Once I imagined being with Gabe, I couldn't control the elaborate stories spinning in my head. My fantasies mostly came in two varieties. My favorite type were fantasies of submission. I wanted Gabe to strip me naked, to command me to pleasure him, and to forcefully take me. I had never seen downstairs on Gabe before, but in my mind his dick was long and thick, and he filled me up and made me his. I knew I would do anything for him, and that being made to serve him would only make me hotter for him. He would be my Master down the hall, and I would be his sexy servant-sister.

One favorite fantasy of this type was where he would come into my room at night and tell me that I had messed up the tuning on his guitar. I sometimes tried to play it, and even learned a few songs, but I didn't have the ear for it. He'd tell me that I needed to be punished for messing with his things, and he'd order me to pull down my panties and bend over his knee. I would beg for his forgiveness while he spanked my bare ass with his hand, and then he'd tell me that I was a bad girl for making him get hard. 

I'd promise to be good, and he'd tell me that good girls get pats on the head, but bad girls get fucked. Then he'd tell me that if I was a good girl, he'd go back to bed, but if I was a bad girl, then I need to take off the rest of my clothes and spread my legs for him. Of course I would, and he would fuck me until I came hard.

Sometimes, I would even take my fantasy farther. From watching videos online, I had learned how much guys wanted to cum in girls' mouths. This might sound nuts, but in my mind, when a man came on a woman's face it was kind of gross and degrading, but if she swallowed his cum it was loving and sensual. I know, I'm crazy, and believe me, for the women reading this, I'm the last person to judge if you love having a guy cum on your face. More than anything, though, I wanted my step-brother to cum in my mouth after he had fucked me, to force me to swallow his sperm down, to hold his cock in my mouth until he was satisfied.

The other type of fantasy was a little bit different. Maybe because the first type seemed like such wishful thinking, I started to imagine what it would be like to tease him and frustrate him, to make him so horny that he'd have to just throw me down on the bed and ravish me. I would imagine wearing skimpier and skimpier clothing, changing with my door open, "accidentally" grazing him with my breasts (I'd have to stand pretty close, sad to say). I'd even think of all the double entendres I would use to tease him, to let him know I wanted him, but force him to act. Unlike the first fantasy, where he was in charge completely, in these fantasies he would try to restrain himself, until his body took over, and, like an animal, he could no longer control his lust.


My Master Down the Hall Ch. 01



Once I even imagined what it would be like for him to completely lose control and to plunge his cock into my ass. Anal sex in real life was completely terrifying to me, and I wasn't sure I'd ever actually do it. In my fantasies, however, it seemed like the ultimate act of submission on my part and of gratification for his lust and desire. It wasn't about the physical feelings I imagined, but about being completely dominated and possessed by the man that I had come to love completely.

All that stuff, unfortunately, stayed just a fantasy, though. I was way too shy to parade around the house in a thong just to make my step-brother horny enough to have his way with me. Instead, I just hung around, stupid, mousy little me, hoping he would notice me, praying he wanted me at all the way I wanted him so completely.

So now for the important part: when my fantasies became reality. Our school's Homecoming Dance was on October 25 that year, five weeks after I had turned eighteen. I had been wrapped up with college applications and stressing out for weeks. Of course, I didn't have a date to the dance. Gabe would be going with his girlfriend, Sadie, whom I naturally despised. Whenever he had a girlfriend, he spent less time with me. What's worse, I knew they had started having sex, or at least oral, in the past few weeks. I knew that because I once barged into his room when he wasn't supposed to be home to get my English anthology back, only to cause Gabe to hastily pull up his pants and shout at me to knock first. That stupid Sadie was down on the ground on the other side of the bed on her knees, and I just know she had been sucking his cock. That was supposed to be me!

After that little fiasco, my fantasies had begun to include a lot more of me giving Gabe blowjobs. He would call me over and order me down to my knees before pulling out his cock. I would worship his manhood, before letting him take charge and fuck my face like I was his personal porn slut. The thought of Gabe satisfying his most animalistic urges, using my body, and just thoroughly dominating me always gave me the most intense sexual feelings.

On the night of the dance, I was home alone when I got a text from Gabe, asking me to pick him up. When I got there, he was pacing in the parking lot. I got out to see what was going on. In his dark blue button up shirt and slacks, he looked so sexy, but all I could focus on was how upset he was acting. It turned out that, at the dance, Sadie got back together with her ex, a dumb jock named Trent, who in my mind didn't hold a candle to a guy like Gabe.

Though Gabe wasn't crying or anything, I could tell he was not only angry, but also a bit embarrassed. I mean, his girlfriend dumped him in front of everyone. I asked if he wanted to talk, but he said just to drive. I asked him if he would drive for me, since I hated driving at night time in my glasses.

I desperately wanted to tell him that Sadie was no good, and that now he was free to be with me, but even if I had the courage to do so, Gabe was too upset and distant to bother. After what seemed like an eternity, I finally got the nerve to ask him why he liked Sadie in the first place.

"She was..." he paused. "Shit, you know, you're right. She was always a bitch."

"So what was it, then? Why did you stay with her?" I persisted.

"You wouldn't understand," he told me.

It hurt me a little. Not only did he not think of me in a sexual way, but he also couldn't even imagine I'd understand sex at all. I just wanted him to tell me the truth, which I already knew: a guy will put up with a bitchy girlfriend as long as she gives him head. How hard would that be to say?

"There were things I liked about Sadie, " he continued. 

"Like her big tits?" I asked, probably sounding more judgmental than I meant to be.

Gabe seemed a little embarrassed to be having this talk with his sister.

"Well, honestly, yeah. We had just started to fool around, you know?"

Maybe it was the lingering insult of being told I didn't understand sex, or maybe it was me sensing an opportunity, but I only got bolder with my questions.

"Oh, you mean like the time I caught her giving you a blowjob" I asked, this time with a gently teasing voice.

Gabe cracked a smile for the first time tonight.

"So you knew, huh?"

"I may not have any experience of my own, but I'm not totally clueless, either, butthole!" I responded playfully. "Besides, any girl can give a blowjob. That doesn't give you the right to mistreat your boyfriend."

We didn't want to go home, nor did we want to go to one of the post-dance parties where kids got wasted and felt each other up. Gabe suggested we drive out to Patterson Park, a ways outside of town where kids sometimes went to smoke or drink or do whatever things people did when they had friends and weren't social outcasts like me.

Maybe it was the solitude, just the two of us alone in the moonlit park. Maybe it was the talk we had, the intimacy I felt for the first time. Hell, maybe it was the lingering images of Sadie, wiping the side of her mouth while Gabe pulled his jeans up, the months and years of fantasizing about a moment like this. I had to do something. I couldn't wait for him to take me: that would never happen, not when he could have so many other girls who weren't his sister. 

I'm making it sound like I thought this through, but really, I just started kissing him as soon as he parked the car. He must have been on the verge of a heart attack. 

"Rose!" he said, pulling me off of him for a moment. "We can't!"

I knew that words weren't going to convince him. I just remember staring him in the eyes for a moment. I don't know how I looked: maybe pleading, maybe horny, maybe afraid. I just hurled myself at him, kissing him hard and trying to work my tongue inside his mouth, praying he'd relent and kiss me back. For a moment, I thought my life was over. I'd ruin my new family, and Gabe would hate me forever. 

Then he started to kiss me back.

The feeling was electric. My whole body felt like it was trembling, and warmth spread from my stomach to everywhere else. I could feel that familiar feeling of excitement from all my fantasies, only this was really happening. I must have been shaking all over-I'm shaking now just thinking about it.

Gabe must have had his wits about him more than I did, because he reached down and reclined his seat a bit. Thank God he drove a pickup, because I could basically straddle him there in the front seat, which was long and had one of those cup holders thingies in the middle that you could just fold away. 

I wanted to kiss him forever, to never give him a chance to use his mouth for anything else. Especially, I didn't want to give him a chance to say I had to stop, that I was crazy, sick, wrong, that all the girls were right about me, that I was a slut. At that moment, I was a slut—but only for him. I would have done anything he asked—commanded—of me, only he didn't know it. He couldn't understand his power yet, so he just kissed me.

When my skirt bunched up around my waist and I felt Gabe's body, at least his torso, actually touch me between my legs for the firs time, I thought I was going to have an orgasm right there. Though understandably timid at first, Gabe wrapped his arms around me, and now he pulled me into him. The air was getting heavy in the car, and part of me wished he would just open the windows. There was no one around. But the fog kept anyone from seeing in, and I wasn't going to break our lip lock just to get some air.

At some point, I guess Gabe's "instincts" kicked in. I felt his hand inching up my back, headed towards my bra clasp. Figuring that I had come this far, I pulled back from him and tore my shirt off. Looking into his eyes, I could see the conflict still there. For a moment, I thought he might stop everything, until I felt him unhook my bra and throw it over to the passenger side. 

I was nervous now, truly nervous for the first time that night. Sadie had been a bitch, but a bitch with really nice boobs. Even I had to admit that. I was lucky to fill out a B-cup, and I was convinced at the time that guys would hate how I had freckles across the top of my chest and down on to my boobs. My nipples didn't look like most of the ones I had seen either: they're pink and really puffy, and stand up off my breast. I thought that since they were different, they might not be what he wanted.

My fears proved unfounded, thankfully. Gabe dove in immediately with his mouth and started sucking on one of my nipples, while caressing my other breath with his strong hands. It was indescribable, and I was lost in the sensation of finally having some release from teenage sexual frustration.

I must have looked like I was in heat, because I remember catching myself grinding my hips against his body, trying to satisfy the growing need for release I felt in my pussy. If I had my choice, Gabe would have taken my virginity right there in his truck.

It wasn't until Gabe pulled his mouth from my breast that we both seemed to realize simultaneously that we had no idea where this was going. I was a virgin, and more ominously, his step-sister. Was vaginal sex something he wanted from me, or would that be going too far? If not, what else could we do? I was afraid things would get awkward, and I didn't want this to end. Even more, I didn't want this to be the last time. 

I guess I could have taken charge. If I would have told him what to do, at that moment he probably would have done it. Horniness and total shock would have carried him away. That wasn't like my fantasy, though. I wanted him to take control, to take me, and the whole brother thing was going to throw up all kinds of stupid barriers in his mind still to seeing me as a horny girl who wanted his dick inside of her.

"What do you want me to do?" I asked him in a meek, plaintive voice. "I just want to make you feel good."

"You don't have to do this," he told me, as if he had forced me. "I don't...I won't take advantage of you."

God, that was all I wanted. How could I make him see it?

"Gabe—I trust you completely," I replied." Sadie isn't the only girl who knows what you like."

I started to kiss him again after that, hoping he would build his intensity back up. In between soft, wet kisses, I pleaded with him.

"Please. Let me do this for you. I want it, too. Please, Gabe. I can make you feel good."

Gabe started kissing me back. I realize this wasn't the most brilliant or seductive way to get him to take things further, but it had the benefit of feeling right to me. I was never going to be the girl who wraps a man around her little finger. I was the submissive little nobody, begging her own step-brother to let her get him off.

For whatever reason, it worked.

"Slide over to the other side," he ordered.

I was momentarily afraid that he was ending things right there, until he lifted his ass up and started to unbuckle his belt. My eyes must have gleamed watching him pull his jeans down to reveal his boxers. I could see the outline of his hard cock under the paisley cotton fabric, and he reached over to take off my glasses, folding them up and sitting them on the dash.

"I know all those rumors about you aren't true, OK?" he said. "So I just want to know for real: is this the first cock you've seen up close?"

With that, he reached down and pulled his dick through the space in the front of his boxer shorts. I know that in a, like, objective sense, penises are kind of weird looking. But to me, Gabe's cock was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I had fantasized about a moment like this, and finally seeing his manhood, erect and throbbing for me, because of me, was such a rush.

I couldn't speak, so I nodded my head yes. I must have looked silly, being so aggressive before and so startled, now that I was staring right at his erect member.

"You said to tell you what to do. You wanted to do like Sadie, right? Well, Sadie liked to suck my dick. Can you do that?"

Why tell when you can show? I pulled my legs up onto the upholstered seat, so that I rested on my shins and leaned over, reaching my hands down to brace myself beside his right leg. There are, of course, less awkward ways to give a blowjob, but don't judge me too harshly, as it was my first time. I could smell a kind of manly smell that I can't describe, and that, combined with the heat of his body and my own nerves, was a powerful sensory experience.

I stared at his cock for what could only have been a couple of seconds. In just a few moments, that huge thing was going to be in my mouth, and I just froze. Maybe he thought I was going to quit. I darted my tongue out and got my first lick. This was really happening.

I wasn't really ready to take him in my mouth yet, so I used my tongue to swirl around his head, before licking up and down his shaft. Gabe nudged me a little and I dropped down onto my elbows. Suddenly, I didn't need my hands to support me anymore—what a dummy I had been. I reached a hand out to grasp the base of his cock, and pulled it ever so slightly towards me. Then I did it, I put the head of his cock into my mouth and started running my tongue around it. 

Once I had his cock in my mouth, I tried looking up into Gabe's eyes. Unfortunately, the angle made it really hard to do, so I had to settle for using the sounds he was making to let me know if I was doing it right. I felt my mouth start to water, which made it easier to move the head of his cock around. It was such a strange, wonderful feeling, his cock in my mouth, while I was bent over, topless, in the front seat of his truck. Gabe even reached down to pull his balls out from inside his boxers, and the drool from my mouth started to run down his shaft onto them.

All I can remember thinking was "Please do a good job" to myself over and over again. It's going to sound weird, but in my mind, I just felt like giving Gabe a bad blowjob, not trying hard enough for him, would be disrespectful. Gabe was so far above me in every way: way more popular, better looking, talented and certain to succeed in life. But he needed me to do this for him, and if I could do it right, if I could show him and his gorgeous cock how much I worshiped him, then I would have a place in his life.

After a few minutes of swirling the head of his cock around in my mouth, I could tell Gabe was starting to feel really good. I started to move my head up and down, slowly at first, trying to find the right pace. With one hand, Gabe traced his fingers across my bare back, while the other combed through my hair, not forcing my head down onto him like they did in the videos, but instead just gently reminding me that he could control my body in whatever way he wanted. At that moment, I wished I really was a slut, so that I would be better at making him feel good.

Though my motions were slight at first, after a few minutes, I got a better feel for what I could and couldn't do, and I started to bob my head, never breaking the seal of my lips from his dick, except once in a while to breathe. As he got more and more into it, his hand reached around from my back to underneath me, and he began to play with my nipples, first the right and then slipping his arm underneath to the left. 

My mouth started to get sore a little, so I took the head into my mouth and started to rub my tongue along the bottom while I pumped his shaft with my hand. With my other hand, I stared gently rolling his balls around, never squeezing too hard. 

"Oh shit, baby, I'm gonna cum soon!" he exclaimed.

I remember feeling just...loved when he called me "baby." I don't know if it was an accident or what, but it made me feel wanted, like we were really together. If I had had a free hand, I would have wanted to touch myself then, but I wasn't going to take away anything from Gabe's blowjob to take care of my own needs. I decided then that before Gabe came, I was going to try to take his cock as deep as I could, so that I could easily swallow him without spilling.

The sensation of his hot, hard, thick cock against the back of my throat was unusual, and I was really afraid of gagging or my stomach turning. On my third time taking his cock deep, he clamped his hand down onto my head, forcing my mouth deeper, forcing his cock against my throat. For the first time, I could feel his strength, and I was so glad that he held me in place, because I couldn't have done it by myself.

I fought that physical sensation of gagging when I felt the warm, creamy cum spurt into my throat. I didn't want Gabe to think that's how I felt about swallowing his sperm. In reality, I felt proud and so grateful to him. While most of it went straight down, there was still some of his cum in my mouth when I finally pulled away, his cock still twitching. I swallowed it immediately, waiting only to make sure he saw me do it. Then I softly licked him clean, before returning to a normal position in my chair.

Gabe was dumbstruck. Having ejaculated, his mind had returned to him, and I knew he was processing what just happened. For me, though, I needed to get off bad, and I was afraid to ask him to use his mouth on me. For some reason, it just seemed...wrong. At the same time, I couldn't just start jilling myself off right there in front of him, without so much as a warning. Instead, I decided to ask him for permission to get myself off.

"Gabe, I need to cum now so bad," I pleaded. "Can I please get myself off for you?"

Startled, Gabe looked me in the eyes and then began to run his fingers over my nipples again. He didn't say a word, but I knew what his answer was.

I slid off my thoroughly soaked panties and began strumming a finger across my clit. I'd love to elaborate on this experience for everyone, but to be honest, I think I came in about ten seconds, I was so close already. He was still staring at my pussy when I caught my breath and spoke again.

"You made me feel like that. I've been doing this alone for weeks thinking of you. Please don't make this the last time, Gabe."

He pulled me over to him, and I put my head against his shoulder. He held me by my side, close to his body, and told me that I should get dressed, and that we needed to go home. Then he kissed me, disregarding where my mouth had just been, and told me not to worry and that we'd talk tomorrow.

I had done it. I had sucked my step-brother's cock and played with myself for him. Right at that moment, his sperm was inside me. With any luck, we would do even more soon. I knew that if I wanted that conversation tomorrow to turn out my way, I had to think about how to make tomorrow morning as satisfying as possible for him. Breakfast and a blowjob in bed? It sounded like a good plan to me.



My Master Down the Hall Ch. 02



Hey everyone, it's me, Rose, again. So I promised last time I'd tell you more about what happened between me and my step-brother, and I finally found time in the middle of these classes to write it all down. (Note to self: you are not "too good" for blow-off classes. Blow-off classes will be your friend next semester.)

So I kind of teased you guys last time when I implied that I gave Gabe a blowjob the next morning. Unfortunately, it really didn't happen that way, even though it was totally my plan at the time. Instead, I got a serious talk from Gabe about boundaries and how we can't do this. I know what you're thinking: total drag. Only, weirdly enough, it didn't feel that way.

Brief detour: domination fantasies. I want my guy to be in control, not weak. If he gives in too easily to temptation, it loses a little bit of the spark. I'm not speaking for all the ladies out there, but for me, it's not about pain, sadism, or humiliation. So much of that just makes me think a weak guy gets his jollies from beating up girls. I get feelings of inferiority all the time; domination isn't about making me feel that way. It's about being the center of attention, need, and desire, for someone that you see as superior. If you feel small, or weak, or worthless, being dominated (but not degraded) by someone powerful, strong, and superior makes you feel whole.

That last part is the key, but it's tricky. It's weird to think of someone your age, who's like you in some ways, as just being...better. Sure people might be more popular, or hotter, or whatever. But most of us think that we're all kind of equal deep down, and I guess I do too. But when I'm with Gabe, I can't explain it, but it just feels right to kind of look up to him. It might sound pathetic, but I see Gabe as this superior man, and it makes me want to just give myself over to him completely.

My problem at the time was that I was afraid that the guy I worshiped was going to let the whole brother-sister thing get in the way of something great. I mean, I didn't have any basis of comparison, but our first time together was hot. He had to feel it too. If it was just the blowjob, then I'd get it: old news. "Dudes like getting their dick sucked—now Chet with the weather."

That wasn't the only thing, though. It was the way he looked at me when I asked his permission to play with myself. When I asked to do it "for him," I could see him experience the same rush I did, the rush of control, just from a different direction. He had stared right into my pussy as I made myself orgasm for him. He couldn’t turn away. Part of me thought he might have been imagining all the things he could do to my virgin kitty.

I thought about this kind of stuff all the time, and I realized, like a lot of girls I bet, that I don't just generically get off on being controlled. Some asshole I didn't know or like bossing me around would just make me angry. No, it had to be someone I trusted and admired as much as I did Gabe. Finding someone like that would be hard; at the time, in my naive, lovestruck brain, I thought it practically impossible. (Now I think differently, but that's a story I'll have to wait to tell you about.)

Sorry, longer detour than I thought! Anyway, I can't lie, even if I really want to right now: I started to cry. It wasn't just that I was sad or felt rejected. It was that right then, as he was telling me that we couldn't be together, everything about him screamed "I'm perfect for you."

Checklist of fantasy traits: 
-Authoritative tone, telling me what to do and not asking.
-Strength and self-control, always in charge of himself as much as me.
-Love and concern for me, never taking control only for himself
-Abs (I'm only human, and he was wearing a tight shirt that morning!)

He pulled me in for a hug, and I could feel the warmth of his body, its strength. I wanted to sink to my knees right there, but I wasn't going to embarrass myself if I wasn't pretty sure it would work. After I stopped sobbing and smiled, Gabe was sure I was OK. Then it was back to "normal."

Normal for me, of course, meant constantly fantasizing about that night, and what would have happened if I had just climbed on top of Gabe and let him take my virginity. As you can probably guess, the next few days saw me pleasuring myself at least a couple of times daily imagining how that scenario would have played out. 

It was a whole cycle: I would think about what I should have done and feel stupid for passing up the chance. Then I'd think about how it could have gone wrong, since I didn't know what I was doing and probably wasn't hot enough for Gabe anyway. Then when I felt at my lowest, I'd allow myself to fantasize about what it would take for him to actually do it, to have sex with me, his nerdy little step-sister. What could I do to make him want me?

You might think it’s weird that I jilled off while thinking about how lame I was, but that wasn’t unusual. What was different was that this time my fantasy scenarios really could come true. There might be things I could do that would make him want me. If it happened once, it wasn’t out of the question that Gabe would change his mind.

For those few days, Gabe didn't exactly avoid me, but he made sure we were never alone. Where once I hung out with him at his band practices, now I was left behind. Gabe was getting stuff together for his Halloween costume, and I wasn’t helping him. I assumed he go off in a few days to a huge party and meet some new slut who’s way hotter than me and not related to him. We didn’t even watch TV alone together. It was hell, and I know he could tell how depressed I felt. I wasn’t play-acting, trying to lead him on or anything. I was just bummed, like I had no energy. 

Our parents noticed it too. My mom asked me if there was a boy; I told her it was complicated. In her mind, she must have taken that to mean I had some crush at school or something, maybe even a boyfriend. She told me I could always be honest with her, but I knew that this case was a huge exception. She wanted to know if I was going out on a date for Halloween, or if I’d be around to help her pass out candy. I told her that I didn’t have any plans, and she looked a little sad. 

On the fourth day, Gabe finally decided things couldn't go on. I guess he thought he could take the risk of being alone with me to actually sit down and talk about this. I remember him waiting until my parents had gone to a dinner party with some of their lame friends. We went into the bonus room above our garage, which was a good hangout spot with a couple of couches, a TV, and a little card table with four chairs around it for game nights. In retrospect, I still don't really know what his intentions were; sometimes it’s hard to tell whose idea something was in the end.

I remember a lot of the things he said. He started by asking me if I felt comfortable speaking openly and honestly tonight.

"Only if you're just as honest with me," I responded, probably sounding a little bratty.

"Totally," he said. "That's the only way this conversation can work."

I was ready for him to start in with another lecture about family, boundaries, and rules. He could really surprise me, though.

"Rosie, I want you to know something right now. You're fucking beautiful. That’s not just because you’re a redhead, either."

I blushed, unaccustomed to compliments and not really believing this one. I didn’t know Gabe liked redheads either. I’d never seen him date a redhead, but, then again, there aren’t that many of us. I remember looking at my lap, afraid to my eye contact in case I started crying again. God, some times it sucks to be a girl. He continued.

"Those girls at school really pulled a number on you. You go around thinking nobody could ever like you, but it's not true. You don't need me, you could get any guy."

I think Gabe thought this was a compliment, but it actually hurt, since it felt like he was trying to pawn me off on some other guy to get rid of me. Once he saw my hurt expression, he held on to my hand, and I felt a little better.

"Gabe," I said in a soft voice, my eyes still lowered.

What can I say? Writing this stuff down after the fact is one thing, but at the time I was shy and a nervous wreck over this.

"Yeah?"

"Gabe, I know I'm not, like, Sadie level pretty or anything. I just...thought that you'd let me do things with you. What happened last night was the best thing that's ever happened to me."

When I let my eyes come up to meet his, I didn't know what to expect. I think he was trying to process what I was saying. Maybe he couldn't understand that a girl would actually want to perform oral for a guy, since a lot of girls just do it to make their boyfriends stop begging. For me, it was so much more.

"Rosie," he said, using his pet name for me again, "you don't have to do that for me to make me like you. You'll always be part of my life."

"I know, but it's...not like that. I like doing it. I liked everything we did."

Gabe's eyes widened.

"Tell me the truth, Rose. You want to suck cock?"

I was a little shocked. I suppose once it had actually already happened, saying the words shouldn’t be a big deal. For me, it felt like Gabe was letting me into a secret world, where we could talk about things like this without shame or fear.

"No," I replied. "I want to suck your cock. Nobody else's."

It was like an electric charge spread between us, first through him, causing his breathing to speed up and his chest and shoulders to heave. Watching him made the electricity jump to me, only it headed straight downstairs, and I got wet just hearing myself say those words.

This wasn’t like me. This wasn’t an impulsive leap. I was telling him how I felt, even though it was hard to do it. It was like I was borrowing some of his confidence.

"You know we can't be boyfriend and girlfriend. Mom and dad would fucking flip their shit," he said.

"Not in public," I responded. "But at home, you can do anything with me you want."

Sometimes, I'm afraid that I make Gabe sound a little dense in the story, like he can't figure things out without me telling him. Really, he was mostly just thrown for a loop. What he said next, though, showed me that he really was thinking about this stuff, and that he had been paying attention to all the signals I was sending out.

"Go over, lock the door, and bring my phone over here." he commanded. "Then take off your clothes. I want to see your body while you suck my cock."

A more experienced girl would have done all those things really slinky and sexy, I guess. I was too excited to put on any kind of show and just ran over to the door, locking it as fast as I could. He had said it just perfectly, in control, certain, and firm. I grabbed Gabe's phone from the pocket of his coat that had fallen off the back of one of the chairs. I probably should have bent over seductively to pick it up, but like I said, stupid over here. When I popped back up and turned around, Gabe had completely stripped off his pants.

God, his cock looked huge. It was standing at full attention, and I felt a swell of pride. Just thinking about me was doing that to him. He was slowly stroking it up and down. I walked over to him hypnotized and placed the phone at his side.

I had such a better view than last time. This might sound dumb, but it looked…angry. It was really red and hard, and I knew that it could do things to me that would drive me wild. I also found myself staring at Gabe’s balls, remembering how they felt against my skin.

"It's time to strip," he said firmly.

He didn't need to tell me twice. The first time I did this, I was terrified he wouldn't like my body. That was in the relative dark, in a cramped car. Now, in a brightly lit room in our house, it was little better. I was almost as scared as the first time. 

I totally wish I could tell you about how I unzipped my stylish pencil skirt and slipped off my lacy thong panties, but, c'mon, you know it wasn't like that. I was wearing a gingham button up shirt with a thin white camisole underneath and a pair of American Eagle jeans—no bra, panties just plain cotton, sea-green colored.

I fumbled with the buttons on the shirt until I gave up on finishing those and just pulled the damn thing over my head. The camisole was already half-way pulled up, when Gabe pulled me in close. I could feel his cock against my stomach when he took hold of the cami and pulled it up, trapping my arms together above my head. It was all a bit clumsy, but totally hot to me. He kissed me deeply, probing inside of my mouth insistently with his tongue, and I melted in a puddle on his lap. With his left hand, he held my arms together over my head, while he began to stroke and pinch my nipples with the other hand. 

Finally, he let go, and I was completely topless and now totally aroused myself. I took the jeans and panties off with one motion, so that I was now totally nude for him. I looked at him, hoping he'd express some kind of appreciation. The one thing that’s kind of cool about being a redhead I hear is that guys are weirdly into the whole "fire crotch" thing. I don’t think I’ll ever shave off all my hair down there, since the whole natural redhead thing seemed to be a turn-on for Gabe.

Gabe stood and walked towards me. He towered over me, as he slowly unbuttoned his own shirt. Unlike me, he took his time, his movements graceful and controlled. Once he too was stark naked, he placed both hands on my shoulders and guided me to my knees. He ran his fingers through my hair, then placed a couple of fingers under my chin, lifting my head so that our eyes could meet.

I was trembling all over. Gabe probably thought I was afraid. 

"Do you really want to do this?" he asked me.

"Yes," I replied faintly.

"I need you to say it out loud. What you're—we're doing. So it's real."

"I'm going to suck your dick," I told him, my confidence growing.

Gabe placed his hand on the back of my head and guided his cock into my mouth. Unlike last time, I didn't have any time to slowly lick his shaft up and down and get it wet. Gabe's control of my head was light but ever present. He didn't let me forget that he could force his cock as deep into my throat as he wanted. I mean, I had already told him he could do whatever he wanted to me.

Fortunately for me, he didn't do that. Instead, once the first couple of inches of his cock were in my mouth, he held me in place and let me swirl over the head with my tongue. Here at his feet, I felt totally at home. Slowly, his dick began to move in and out, never leaving my mouth but slowly dragging across my tongue. 

My mouth was filling with saliva, which made it easier for Gabe to slide his cock in and out. I thought I might look dumb, as all that spit started to slide out of the corners of my mouth and dribble down onto my chest and thighs, so I looked up at Gabe. He seemed to enjoy the sight. Now that I had made eye contact, I remembered how I couldn't pull that off last time, since it was too cramped in the truck. It was great—I could see how the things I was doing were making him feel. 

It only spurred me on. I know a lot of girls use their hands on blowjobs—I did the first time, too. For some reason, though, it seemed...presumptuous, if that’s the right word. He hadn’t told me or guided me to use my hands, so I simply let him use my mouth only. After a minute or two, I just did what felt natural: I clasped both hands behind my back. With my chest jutted out like that, I guess Gabe couldn't resist, because he started playing with my breasts, tweaking my nipples and squeezing them firmly, with his free hand. I loved the fact that, no matter what, he never removed the one hand from my head. I guess I just loved the feeling of never leaving his complete control.

Gabe got this look on his face. If I didn't know him better, I would have thought it was anger. He looked possessed, fiery, intense. Then he did something really unexpected, but which set me off even more. He pulled his cock out of my mouth and held my head in place with both hands, craning my neck to look up at him. There were these, like, ropes of spit connecting his dick to my mouth. It was pretty surreal.

"Tell me what you feel right now," he barked, more passionate than before.

I didn't know what to say. I wanted to say the right things, to make him think I was cool and sexy, rather than needy and pathetic. Unfortunately, I think Gabe's cock had jarred loose the part of my brain that controlled rational thought.

"I feel small," I said, panting. "And you're so big. And I feel horny."

Gabe stroked my cheek, like I was little girl or something.

"Do you think you can take my whole cock, or do you need to give up now?"

I was scared. The last thing I wanted to do is gag on Gabe's member and then do something gross like throw up. Remember, this was lifetime blowjob #2. I wasn't Linda Lovelace here. On the other hand, I really, really wanted to try.

OK, one more detour—this is for the ladies mostly. What I've learned (you know, now that I'm a total BJ queen) is that there are three kinds of blowjobs. There are bad blowjobs, which Gabe once told me made up about 90% of all blowjobs. He also told me that bad blowjobs were like bad pizza: still pretty good, in fact better than most alternatives. Then there’s type two: the sexy-looking blowjob. It’s way better, because the girl puts in the extra effort to make it that way. This is where girls show off for guys, doing all kinds of teasing little moves. The eye contact, the sex noises, little licks and stuff. It's like half visual, and only half about the feel. They're awesome for guys still, especially compared to the shitty first type. But it’s kind of more about performance and play-acting than about the real, physical feel. Most of all, they’re blowjobs where the girl is always in total, 100% control.

The blowjob I gave Gabe was the third type, the best type I think. Gabe told me what it was like for a guy much later and the phrase has stuck with me: "treating my mouth like a cunt." It sounds dirty, blunt, and forceful, and that's exactly what it is. Very few real-life blowjobs are like this, but if you want to really hook a guy, the way I wanted Gabe, there is no replacement. Let him—hell beg him to—fuck your mouth like a cunt. Foolproof advice from your humble author.

Now I know what you're thinking, too. I'll answer all your questions when I tell you what happened that day with Gabe. Yes, I started to tear up when his cock started pressing against the back of my throat. Yes, my throat started to hurt from his huge cock trying to force its way inside, no matter how much spit built up. Yes, it takes time and effort to relax enough to let the guy’s cock slip into your throat, and it’s hard as hell to resist gagging. No, I couldn't resist, and I kind of half-threw up a huge amount of thick spit. It would have been pretty gross in any other context. I was just glad it had been a while since I ate, and only that spit stuff came out. Last question? No, Gabe didn't give a shit about how I looked, how messy it was, or even the fact that it was his sister gagging on his cock. He was roughly fucking an (almost) virgin throat, humping my face as much as he could every time I took him back inside my mouth. He was too busy fucking my face to worry about the fact that we were related.

I was getting a little light-headed when he pulled out. My head was swimming and I was both afraid of not being able to continue and desperate to get myself off.

"Please," I begged him, "can I play with my pussy for you?"

I expected him to comply, but he surprised me.

"No," he said, "keep your hands behind your back."

You might think I was crushed, but if you've gotten to know me well enough so far, you'd know how much I loved him taking charge like that. Then I had a thought: is Gabe going to touch me himself later? Holy shit! The mere thought that this was a possibility caused me to shudder involuntarily. My pussy was already dripping wet, and I thought I might cum without anything touching me at all. (Yeah, as it turns out, for me that's impossible. I need to be touched.)




My Master Down the Hall Ch. 02



Gabe again guided his cock into my mouth. I'd love to say I took it all, and he buried my face into his crotch, but I just wasn't there yet. Try as I might, I could never take all his length. When he bottomed out as deep as he could go, he'd try thrusting further, but end up mostly gagging me, causing me to sputter up more spit around his cock. By that point, I was covered with it, and even Gabe had a slick coating of my saliva on his stomach and hands. 

"I'm gonna cum!" he bellowed suddenly. "Jerk me off when it's time."

I didn't know why I'd need to jerk him off, but after another minute or so of thrusting his cock in and out of my mouth, he withdrew the whole enormous thing. The slickened, engorged head pointed straight at my face, and I knew what he meant. Without thinking or questioning, my hand went to his tool, and I stroked him for what could only have been a moment before he erupted, covering my face with what looked like three days' worth of sperm.

Gabe's head rolled back, and he collapsed back onto the couch. I sat there stunned, my face coated in warm, sticky cum. I've already told you guys how I felt about facials. It's just a weird thing, but suddenly I felt very degraded and embarrassed. Gabe's next action only increased these feelings.

Reaching over for his phone, Gabe lined up a shot of my face. Not only was I coated in slimy jizz, but my eyes were red, my lips raw, and my hair slicked with my own spit. I looked like a total mess, and I felt like just some stupid, disposable slut, I guess, when I realized what Gabe was doing. I felt like I was going to cry, so I asked Gabe to let me wipe my face off in the bathroom.

"No," he said. "not yet. I've got something to do first."

Had I pushed Gabe too far? Was he going to step over the line, a line I'd never really spelled out for him? I had always been the initiator really, but now I was afraid that my submissive fantasies might tip into real humiliation and abuse. What's worse was that I knew I would never truly say "no" to anything Gabe demanded of me, so I felt a profound sense of helplessness, a feeling I both loved and hated.

Gabe left the room for a moment. I had no idea what he was doing. He could be sharing that photo with all his friends, laughing at his pathetic whore sister, who'd just begged to suck him off. He could come back with a belt and whip my ass raw, and I would take it like the worthless slut that I was. Hell, he could just leave, and see if I'd sit there until his cum dried on my skin while he had a snack and watched TV.

I felt totally powerless. Then I remembered something. Gabe is my brother. He loves me. He doesn't want to hurt me. I knew I was right when he came back with a big, fluffy towel and spread it before me.

"Lay down on this," he ordered, firmly but gently.

Of course I did, and I felt Gabe's hands on the inside of my knees as he got down on the ground with me. Was he? OHMYGOD!

"Do you like that?" he asked, looking up at me from between my quivering legs.

For the very first time in my life, a guy had touched my pussy. It was his tongue, too! He used his tongue. Not his finger, like he didn't want to really get in close—his tongue. He had stroked my pussy, from the base of my slit all the way up to my clit, with his beautiful, amazing tongue.

I felt unworthy to receive such pleasure. When I told him I loved it, I almost squeaked like a mouse. I hated the sound of my own voice then. I couldn't think.

Gabe licked me again, this time slower, more deliberate.

"You taste good. Not all girls do."

He did it again. I thought I might set the North American record for fastest female orgasm.

"Rosie, I know you want to cum. But I need something from you first."

Again with the tongue. I shuddered with delight.

"You help me out, and I’ll eat your pussy until you cum."

He slowly strummed my labia with his finger, enough to keep winding me up without getting me off, as he spoke.

"I need you to tell me all the things you'll let me do to you. I'm not even sure what I want to do yet. But I want to know where your boundaries are. Keep talking and I'll keep licking."

My head raced. I started to think of everything I'd ever seen in a porno online and everything I'd read about in erotic fiction. I wanted to impress Gabe with all the things I'd allow him to do, all the fantasies he might have that he could fulfill with me. But then I thought that anything I said would be on record. Gabe might want something from me that I promised that I just couldn’t do, no matter how much I wanted to do it for him. I decided not to lie or exaggerate. I'd only say things that I would truthfully be OK with him doing.

"Gabe, you can fuck my face whenever you want."

He began to lick, swirling his tongue every ten seconds or so against my clit. He must have known that too much clitoral stimulation would have immediately pushed me over the edge.

"I’ll suck your cock and lick your balls."

Gabe’s tongue in my pussy was breathtaking. Once he got in there good, he stopped holding my lips open with his fingers and reached up to caress my tits. He was damn good at this.

"You...can fuck my pussy. You can cum in my mouth. I'll swallow your sperm."

The feeling was getting too intense, and I couldn't keep on talking. When I stopped, though, Gabe stopped too. I took a deep breath and knew I had to continue.

"I'll dress up for you, however you want. You can...please, don't stop...you can spank me. You can get me off whenever you want. You can tie me up."

I was getting so close to orgasm. Gabe's tongue was bringing me to levels of pleasure I'd never reached by myself. I started to sob softly. I wished I didn’t cry all the time. It wouldn’t be long before I came.

"You can make me beg to come. You can make me beg to suck you. You can make me beg to touch you."

Now I was basically crying. I felt suddenly really ashamed, like my tears were killing the mood for him and making me seem like a scared, naive little girl. All this—the stimulation, the emotions, the feelings I had for Gabe—was unlocking something inside me. I let the crazy spill out.

"You...can fuck my butt. You can call me names...You can pee on me."

That last part shocked even me. I was bawling, hard, when Gabe turned on the magical vibrator in his tongue and flicked my clit rapidly. 

For some reason, describing my own orgasm is the weirdest thing for me writing this. I remember having the sudden sensation that I was going to pee. Then an explosion went off in my brain, and it felt like I was losing control of my body. I stopped crying and just sucked in a ton of air and then expelled it all at once. It could have lasted a second or an hour—I totally lost contact with time and space.

I came so hard that I clenched my thighs on Gabe’s head. If I was a bigger girl, I might have decapitated my poor brother. Fortunately, he came out safe and sound, with a big grin on his face.

"Hey, don't cry," he told me, stroking my cheek. For some reason, I felt better to have him touch me there, where he had cum. It seemed less disgusting and dirty to have him touch his own cum, like he was proving to me that there was nothing wrong with it.

I thought we might sit and talk about the whole anal sex and pee thing that he had gotten me to admit while I was on the verge of climax, but we just got in the shower together and lathered each other up. There wasn't any sex this time, just two people who loved and cared about each other, enjoying each other’s bodies. I was in heaven. I’d tell you more, but at that point my mind was jelly. I just remember the warm water washing over us both and feeling totally right.

Our parents came home like twenty minutes after we had dried off and gotten dressed. Thank God we had time to clean up after ourselves. That night, when Mom and Dad wanted to watch some boring old movie, Gabe and I excused ourselves to watch TV in the bonus room. You know, back to the scene of the crime.

"So I guess we need to talk about some of the stuff I said, huh?" I said once we were safely inside.

"Maybe," he said. "Look, today was...beyond incredible. But I don't think I should start doing anal on my step-sister just yet."

He laughed a little, and I laughed along. My mind flashed to an image of Gabe shoving his huge cock into my tiny anal opening. My eyes must have nearly popped out of my head. He gave a wry smile.

"Yeah," I told him. "I'm scared about a lot of those things I said. I just didn't want to lie to you. If you wanted me to do them, to let you do them to me? I'd say yes. To you."

"What was that about calling you names?" he asked.

I got really sheepish. I couldn’t lie to Gabe, but bringing that up made me remember the bad old days before him. 

"Well, I mean, look, you know, right?"

That was barely an English sentence, and I shouldn’t have been surprised to see a puzzled look on his face.

"I'm, you know, a slut. "

I totally believed it at that moment. Only a slut would feel like this, right? 

"I guess the other girls just knew it before I did," I continued. "So if you like calling me that, or anything else, you can. I mean, I know some guys like calling girls names like 'slut' or 'whore' when the girl’s, you know, giving them a blowjob and stuff. If you like that kind of thing, you can call me names like that. I can take it."

Gabe's whole demeanor changed.

"Those other girls were sheep, and they were jealous of how smart you were. Shit, Rosie."

Gabe seemed upset, but not at me.

"Look, it's easy when you can put people in these little boxes. There are nerds and hot girls, two separate groups. They don't compete. But you're, and I say this with nothing but love, a really hot nerd."

I laughed a little, and Gabe smiled that smile that could melt an iceberg.

"No really, no offense. You're a total geek, Rosie, but that's cool, because you've got more going on upstairs than all those catty bitches put together. So, ummm, is this thing with us weird? Yeah, totally. But it doesn't make you a slut, and, shit, if it does, then I'm a slut too. I'm, like, a man-slut or something."

We both laughed at that thought. Gabe turned the TV on, and I snuggled against him. I felt way better about things. About thirty minutes in to the first show we were watching, I decided to ask him something that had been bugging me.

"What's the picture for?"

"What?" he asked, confused. 

I raised my eyebrows and shrugged my shoulders a bit.

"Oh, that picture. For us. Only. For real, I'd die before I let some asshole see my step-sister like that. I just...wanted a memento in the moment. I can delete it."

I thought for a moment, before telling Gabe he could keep it, as long as it was totally safe. Maybe we could take more pictures in the future, I thought. I'll go ahead and spoil all the suspense right now: not one single picture ever got out. Not my Gabe—he wouldn't do that to me.

We weren't too into the show at that point. I was just enjoying the feeling of curling up against his body, his strong arms around me, as he slowly stroked my bare arms under the blanket. This moment, as much as all the sex stuff, was what I had dreamed of. This was what it could be like, if we were together.

"Hey, since we're asking questions," he said, "I've got one about your list. I noticed that cumming on your face wasn't on it."

I dreaded having to answer that question, because it got to the weird contradiction in feelings I had towards Gabe and the level of control I wanted him to take. I wanted him to be happy, to do the things with me that would make him happy. If he wanted to cum on my face, I would never really tell him he couldn't. On the other hand, I still really didn't like it. I know it was a weird, random thing to not like, but still, it just felt like spitting in my face for some reason. To me, it felt like a sign of disrespect, and what I was after was a sign of love and respect. Dominating me was that sign, but degrading me just wasn’t. I'm sure I would get over it in time if I knew it made Gabe feel good, but I just...I don't know. I guess personal hang-ups are just hard to explain.

"Well, you know I wouldn't tell you 'no,'" I replied, "but it makes me feel...well, to be honest, I felt kind of embarrassed. It was like you wanted to make me feel bad for being such a whore or something."

He looked hurt.

"I'm so sorry, Rosie. I would never—"

"Gabe, stop. It's OK. I know you care about me. If you really want it, you can do it. But for my sake, please try to mostly just cum in my mouth. I don't mind that at all—I like it even."

Gabe looked relieved.

"Rosie, this is going to sound weird, since we're just starting to...well, kind of like date..."

Yes!

"...but I do really love you. You'll always be part of my life, no matter what. Can you still be my sister after this?"

He squeezed me tight then, and I felt totally at home in the world for the first time in my life. It was the first time in a while that he had called me "sister" without adding the "step-" part. I don't know why that mattered so much, but it did.

"Gabe? Door locked?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said, "why?"

Without answering, I pulled his sweats down to free his beautiful cock and got into position on the floor to suck him off again.

This time I was in control, and Gabe was content to lie back and allow me to show him just how I felt about him with my mouth and tongue. It was such a contrast to earlier that day, one of those second type of blowjobs, but perfect for the moment. Gabe only used his hands to help control my pace, and I did the rest of the work.

"Rosie, I'm gonna cum," he whispered, almost out of breath after ten minutes or so.

I took that as my signal to plunge his cock into the back of my throat, and I was rewarded with his orgasm. I felt his twitching, sensitive cock unload into my mouth, and once he was finished, I showed him the cum in my mouth before swallowing it all for him. 

"See, wasn’t that just fine?" I asked, knowing he’d agree.

All I could think was how I wanted to savor this moment forever. Well, that and that I was pretty thirsty.

"Hey, need a coke or something?" he said, apparently reading my mind.

Gabe escorted me back downstairs so I could get a drink. On the way, we passed by our parents' room. The door was closed, but it was obvious from my mom's moans what was taking place inside. I guess they must have figured we'd stay upstairs all night.

"Gross," Gabe deadpanned.

I shook my head, as if to agree. Really, though, I understood my mom completely. Maybe it just seemed natural now, a Waters girl taking the hard cock of a McKinney man. I know I couldn't complain. There was just one thing at the back of my mind: what would Gabe do next? I mean, he had me lay out all these things I would do for him. What did he want? Did he even know?

He had taken to casual dominance so well, like it came naturally. I felt totally under his power, and his protection. I knew that whatever came next, as long as he was in control it would be fine. Hell, better than fine: I knew I would cum hard and feel the rush of pleasuring him.

"Rosie," he whispered to me in the kitchen, drawing me in close.

"Yeah?"

"I'll never cum in your face again..."

Without hesitation, I reached up and kissed him, passionately. When our lips parted, I looked up to see a devilish grin.

"...unless you're bad."

But that's another chapter.



My Master Down the Hall Ch. 03



I've always thought the best stories, whatever they were about, made the happy ending hard for the main character. If things go too easy, the story isn't as good. In my own life, though, I wish I could rush through all the bad stuff, the stuff that makes other people's stories so interesting, and just get my happy ending. As it turned out, conflict and obstacles were unavoidable for me and my step-brother Gabe.

Hi everybody, it's me again, Rose Waters, seducer of innocent brothers and insatiable cum swallowing slut. (Mostly a joke...mostly) I've loved hearing from some of you, especially the ones who've been in a similar situation to me. It's not easy to carry a big secret alone, but, as you'll see in this chapter, sometimes it's even harder to share a big secret with other people too.

I've got to fast forward in this chapter, from right before Halloween to right before Christmas. But Rose, you say, weren't there tons of sexy adventures to share with us then? Sure, but guys, seriously, I'm never going to get to the really important stuff if I have to describe myself sucking Gabe's cock like a hundred times. Trust me, the six weeks I'm skipping were mostly just boring life, boring life, stupid teenage drama, blowjob, boring life, blowjob, class project, blowjob, etc., etc., etc. Not that I'm complaining about getting Gabe's gorgeous cock in my mouth twice a day, of course!

I do need to catch you up on one little development, though, that started to add something new and thrilling to my plain vanilla incest-domination fantasies. (And to think, I used to be such a nice girl...) If you don't remember, I'm a little bit on the submissive side...OK, maybe a lot bit. I think being short, skinny, and a ginger pretty much makes everyone you meet seem like they're bigger, stronger, and more mature than you are. That being said, I wasn't really sure what kinds of things I would really be into. I did know that, as far as pain goes, I was a total wimp who would probably break down and cry (and not in a sexy way) if Gabe so much as slapped my ass too hard. Thankfully, he found the perfect way to put me in my place without ever really hurting me physically.

It started when we had both come home after school one day. That was the usual time for Gabe's first blowjob of the day, since we had the place to ourselves before Mom and Dad came home. (If you can believe it, the second time of the day was almost always when our parents retreated to their bedroom for Emmett, my stepdad, to fuck my Mom's brains out. Talk about a perfect parental distraction!) Gabe had started to incorporate a few little games into the whole process. He was starting to really get into the whole dominant role; I once asked him if he was reading about being a Dom, and he stared at me like he had no clue what I was talking about. Eventually, I figured out that he was just doing what felt natural based on my reactions to him. I, of course, had read a million BDSM stories, and thought about domination in terms of all those rituals, but Gabe didn't know any of that stuff and still managed to find just the right ways to push my buttons.

So, that day, Gabe whipped out his cock, just like normal, but stopped me when I tried to take it in my mouth. He sometimes teased me like this, but never for long. Usually he'd just deny me the privilege of touching his cock until I did some little thing, like describe my fantasies from the first half of the day, or even do some of his chores. Sure he was taking advantage a bit with that last one, but I got it.

"Tell me why you deserve it," he said, really calm, but almost playful.

He wasn't an icy or aloof guy, like so many of the dominant characters I read about. He always sounded engaged and caring. Most of all, he was having fun, which made things less scary for a girl like me, still a virgin. The problem was, it was really hard for me to explain why I deserved the pleasure of sucking his cock. I mean, I really didn't. I had kind of just taken it, sucking it that night in the truck. I mean, I guess you could see me giving him blowjobs all the time as being for his benefit, but we both knew I was right where I wanted to be, getting exactly what I wanted. Gabe was even spending a lot more brother and sister time with me, taking me to a Halloween party with friends from his old school, letting me come to band practice, and sneaking me a beer when our parents weren't looking. He even once let me hold his cock while he was peeing, which was so cool of him, after I'd begged him for like a week. I suppose that last thing is not so much a brother-sister thing, though!

I remember just turning my head down and mumbling my answer to him, and he got kind of pretend angry.

"Speak up, little girl," he said.

He had started to use a lot of little pet names and things for me, always focused on me being small. He never stuck to one little pet name, but switched them around, always taking pleasure in coming up with something new to make me feel like his little toy.

"I don't deserve it," I told him, a little louder. "I want it really bad, but I don't deserve it."

He got a big grin across his face.

"Why not?" he asked.

I kind of didn't understand the question at first. It forced me to think, and I started to tell him why he was so great: how hot he looked, how strong he was, but he interrupted me pretty quickly.

"Stop talking about me," he said calmly. "Why do you think you don't deserve to suck my cock? Shouldn't I be the one begging you?"

The whole idea of that last thing just sounded crazy. I took a deep breath. Unsure what to do, I looked into his eyes. They seemed soft, and I could feel my brother looking at me, even liking what he saw. He wasn't going to rub my nose in it.

"I'm a little nerd," I said. "A geek, and nobody at school likes me. Even if I wasn't your sister, people would think you were crazy to have a thing for me. I have basically no tits, I have stupid freckles, I look like I'm twelve."

Cataloging all my flaws put me in that mental space of inferiority and dependence that I knew so well. It made me feel bad about myself, but also horny, because I guess for me feeling worthless and getting hot go together.

"I'm probably terrible at giving you blowjobs," I continued. "You can get any girl you want, but you probably feel bad for me and let me try to suck your dick just so I'll go away. If anybody knew about you and me, they'd never believe it, because why would a guy like you spend even a second with a girl that everybody thinks is an ugly slut."

By that point, I was almost ready to make myself cry, which is itself a pretty pathetic thing to do. I had one last indignity, though, pulled deep from inside my mind.

"They're right, too. I could never deserve your cock because I'm not a good girl, I'm a dirty slut. A good girl doesn't do what I do. A good girl doesn't beg to suck her brother's dick. A good girl doesn't tell her brother he can fuck her in the ass and pee on her. Only a sick freak—"

I really was about to start crying when I felt Gabe's cock enter my mouth and work its way over my tongue towards my throat. I felt elation, just total emotional and physical fireworks, knowing that he'd chosen me, proven me worthy, to take his cock. I mean, looking back, I know that it's no shocker that an eighteen-year-old guy would let a willing girl suck his cock. I even kind of know that I'm cute, and that guys probably do like me. I even kind of knew it back then, too; being like me, whether you want to use a label like "sub" or not, just had more to do with feeling and seeing myself a certain way, and not with how others really saw me. It had been a part of me for as long as I could remember. Since I felt like a weak, worthless, helpless slut, being chosen by someone like Gabe seemed infinitely more important and more fulfilling.

Maybe because of how worked up I was emotionally, Gabe didn't fuck my face too hard that day. In fact, it was all pretty loving, him slowly working his cock in and out of my mouth, pausing to savor the feeling of my tongue dancing across the head. I stripped my top off and pinched my nipples the way I knew Gabe liked to see. When he came in my mouth, I felt a sudden, incredible surge of sensation, not quite an orgasm, but still an amazing combination of physical pleasure and emotional release. I showed him the cum in my mouth, implicitly asking, like always, to be permitted to swallow it. This time, though, he had other plans.

"Leave it in your mouth," he said. "And don't swallow till you start to cum for me."

I obeyed of course, leaving Gabe's semen in my closed mouth as he stripped off my skirt and panties in one move. 

OK, hate to do this to you guys, but I do want to talk about something here, especially with the ladies: swallowing cum. I know a lot of girls, even grown women, still spit it out whenever a guy cums in their mouth. To me, this is nuts. Spitting means moving the stuff around more in your mouth, and it definitely ruins a lot of the experience for the guy. I totally get not wanting cum in your mouth, but it seems like just quickly swallowing it is the easiest thing to do. I mean, you're already sucking the guy's cock—why not give him that last little thing? 

So, if it's a little weird to have cum in your mouth, it's, like, a lot weird to leave it there for a while. The taste is...unique: not necessarily bad, but totally different from anything else. When you have a mouthful of cum, it's also hard to think about anything else other than having a mouthful of cum. And that thought is super weird because: a.) cum makes babies, and your mouth is full of baby-making stuff, b.) that stuff was in a guy's balls like ten seconds ago, and c.) it is super nasty and also bizarrely sweet to swallow cum, and I do intend that double meaning. I don't know if I am the only girl crazy enough to think about this kind of stuff, but there it is.

Back to the story: Gabe motioned towards the piano—he no longer needed words to tell me what he wanted to do, as I'd learned over the past few weeks the different positions he wanted me in to cum. I leaned forward, my hands on the wooden cover to the keys. Gabe came around behind me and started letting fingers dance across the outer folds of my vagina, careful not to touch my clit, since I'd probably cum immediately like always.

Shit! I thought. Should have remembered "too fast to cum" as a reason for why I didn't deserve him.

This time, it was even harder not to have an orgasm, since I still had that huge load of Gabe's cum in my mouth, and I knew I could swallow it when I came. Whenever Gabe thought I might cum, he would stop his fingers moving for a second and swat me on the ass, not too hard, but not that soft, either. It really stung and made me feel like dirty slut who needed to be punished.

"Can you hear me, Rosie?"

I nodded my head, which I figured he could interpret from behind me.

"I want you to know something."

His fingers returned to my pussy. God he knew how to build me up.

"One day, if you're very good, I'm going to stick my big fat cock in your tiny pink little pussy, and I'm going to fuck your little princess cunt until you can't see straight."

As if that wasn't enough, Gabe finally found my clit, and I dissolved to the floor immediately, lucky that I still had the bodily control to swallow his cum down as I crumpled to the floor in a puddle of orgasmic bliss. Holy shit! The combination of it all: the swallowing, the teasing, the submissive pose, and, most of all, the promise of Gabe taking my virginity, had been too much for me to handle.

I remember laying on the ground, looking up to see him towering over me. His cock was still hard, and stuck out like a weapon. I realized I'd probably gotten my juices all over the carpet, though it wouldn't have been the first time. Our eyes met, and we communicated wordlessly, me asking if it had all been a real promise or just a fantasy designed to make me cum, him telling me that it all depended on me. How could I be "good?" No, not just good—"very good."

"Hey, Tinkerbell," he said. "I've gotta piss. Wanna help me aim?"

I smiled. Everything was perfect.

***

Yeah, so perfect has a way of becoming un-perfect really fast. 

I must have been in some kind of sex-induced trance of happiness or something. For weeks after that day, things had been like that, me cumming hard, Gabe making me more and more his, making me beg and teasing me longer before he would let me cum, sometimes taking even a whole day. My mom pulled me aside one night after dinner, really serious. 

"Who is he?" she asked.

I panicked.

"What do you mean?" I asked, trying to buy some time.

"Who's the new guy?" she asked, as if there was an "old" guy.

As far as she knew, there had been no guys. There was no way that my Mom could find out about Gabe, either. On the other hand, I hated lying to her.

"I don't want to tell you, yet," I told her. "I wouldn't want to jinx things. Just wait a while."

I assumed she would be cool with that, but she looked super worried.

"I know things can seem great at first, like nothing can go wrong," she said. "But please be careful. You have your whole life ahead of you, and I don't want you to get hurt, sweetie."

I told her I would always be careful, but her warning made me think about some things. First, I needed to be more careful around Mom. I couldn't get caught staring lovingly at Gabe when we were sitting at the dinner table. Most of all, I couldn't have Mom see me obeying Gabe like he was my master or something. We should try to act more like regular siblings in front of her.

Second, I needed to get on birth control. I didn't need Mom for that, thankfully, so I decided to go to the gyno ASAP to get on it, since I heard you're supposed to wait a month. I knew that if Gabe wanted to have sex tomorrow I would do it, and if he wanted to cum inside me, I'd let him. It wasn't like I thought he wanted to be a teenage father to his step-sister's baby—he wasn't trying to get on a reality show—but it was still within the realm of possibility. I wanted to be smart.

Finally, it made me realize that Gabe and I needed to actually sit down and talk, as hard as it would be. Why would that be hard, you ask? Because that talk was going to be discussing shit that we say and do when we're both horny and in the middle of fooling around in the cold light of day. (Or at least, the lukewarm electric light of the bonus room upstairs.) That meant taking things that have been unreal fantasies and talking about them like they were reality. That also meant doing something that felt very unnatural: talking to Gabe like we were equal partners in a normal relationship, not all-powerful sex god and submissive little mouse, which is how I usually felt.

I won't drag this out for you: I got careful around Mom. Really careful. I also got Ortho Tri-Cyclen. Finally, I sat Gabe down for the talk, the one I was dreading. 

I had decided it would be easier if we weren't at home, so we went out to eat at the Pasta Factory. (Don't knock it till you've tried the breadsticks!) I told Gabe about Mom's talk, about lying about a boyfriend, and about getting on birth control. At that point, I was about two weeks in, and I told him about the whole month thing. I didn't want it to seem like I was telling him he had to have sex with me in a couple of weeks or anything, but for some reason it felt like it, and I got really embarrassed. I looked up at him, my face red, hoping he'd give me some sign of assurance. He had this perfect smile across his face that made me feel so much better.

"I'm proud of you Rosie," he said.

"For what?" I asked, genuinely unaware that I had done anything that praiseworthy.

"For being a grown-up. I know I call you little names all the time, but you really are a woman now," he said. 

Then, the coolest thing that has ever happened in the whole world happened.

"My woman," he said, softly but clearly.

My heart just melted. I was his. I mean, I was before, of course, but now he said it, so I knew he felt it too. Everything was so perfect. Then the twist.

"That's why I know you're going to understand this," he said, his face getting serious. "You need to get a boyfriend. A not-your-brother boyfriend."

Never before has a person gone from so high to so low in such a short period of time. I must have looked really hurt and confused, because he started to talk in his soothing, almost paternal voice.

"Don't cry, sweet pea," he said. "It's not like that. I'm not really giving you up. We just have to have a guy to show Mom. She's already asked me about your 'new guy,' too."

I guess it made sense that Mom would go to Gabe, knowing how much I respected him, when I had stonewalled her over the boyfriend thing.

"I've already thought about it," he continued. "You're going to have a boyfriend, and I'm going to have a girlfriend. She'll never suspect anything that way, and you'll even have a date to take you to prom in the spring."

His comforting wasn't working, of course, and you can all probably guess why. 

"Girlfriend?"

He took a deep breath. Surely he knew that would throw me.

"Who?" I asked, barely even able to get that word out. I wasn't going to start crying before the lasagna came.

"I'm thinking Andrew. Great guy, not a player, good enough friend not to try anything with you. You guys only have to go out a few times, here and there, to keep it believable for Mom. I'll tell him you need a fake boyfriend to make another guy jealous, and as long as he doesn't have pay for any dates, I'm sure he won't mind hanging out with you now and then."

Of course, that wasn't what I was asking about at all. I had wanted to interrupt him during his whole sales pitch for Andrew, one of Gabe's bandmates, but thought better of it. I was thinking some very uncharacteristic thoughts right then, fantasies of a different kind, involving me straddling whatever slut Gabe started to date and slowly choking the life out of her.

"No," I said, my voice trembling, "I mean about you. Who's gonna take my place?"

I knew it was a shitty thing to say, but I couldn't help myself. Gabe looked upset, though I wasn't sure if he was mad at me or concerned about how I was feeling at first.

"No one. It's not like that," he said, pausing before he continued. "I've thought about that too. I think it should be Natalie."

I was floored. Natalie, my fellow wallflower and only real friend. I knew for a fact she had never so much as kissed a guy. Did Gabe like her?

"I think she's perfect," he continued, "because she's your friend, so you can trust her. Most importantly, I think you should tell her."

"What?!?" I said, probably too loud for the restaurant.

Gabe reached across the table and held my hand.

"Don't get me wrong, this is a big deal to me. But it's got to be harder for you. You need someone to share this with, someone you can trust, who won't judge you. If Natalie isn't that person, then fine, we'll come up with another plan. If you can trust her, though, then I think she's the only girl to pick." 

He was right, of course. Still, I was worried. I didn't want Gabe to discover that he could get the same things he got from me from another girl, only not have to hide it all. Some days I loved being his sister, and other days I wished we could be like any two normal kids who meet, fall in love, and screw each other non-stop. What if he even had a thing for, like, socially awkward virgins? Natalie was as inexperienced as I had been. What if he wanted us both together. My imagination over-heated again; somehow, I always ended up picturing myself being humiliated and used, this time by Gabe and Natalie together. 

"Hey, you there, Tinkerbell?" he asked, concerned. "I know this is a lot to take in."




My Master Down the Hall Ch. 03



"Gabe?" I asked, my fantasies of girlfriend murder and three-way submission beginning to subside into more familiar feelings of helpless inferiority. "I know I don't...I mean...I can't—"

"Please just say it, Rosie," he said patiently.

"Please don't have sex with Natalie. I mean, unless you think...unless you really want to. I'm not telling you what to do."

Yeah, I know, pathetic. Some people with low self-esteem are just unbiased judges of themselves. He squeezed my hand harder.

"Rosie, you're not just my girlfriend, you're my sister."

We had used the phrase "dating" before, but never the g-word.

"This is for show. That's why I think you should tell Natalie. I don't want to hurt her either. She's a good girl, and I want you two to stay friends."

He gave me a moment to think things over. One thought kept turning over in my head. The waiter brought our food, and we ate, if not in perfect silence, then at least with a cloud of uncertainty hanging over our heads. Even Gabe seemed tense. Most of all, I was searching for the right words to tell him how I felt, afraid of sharing too much and pushing him away, but also dying to confide in him.

"Gabe, I'll do it. I mean, of course I'll do it, I'd do anything for you. Just, please don't hate me if it's hard for me. I do trust you, but I can't promise that I won't need a little extra, like, cuddling and stuff for when I start feeling scared about you with another girl, even if it is my best friend. Is that too weird?" 

Gabe smiled.

"I think I can do that," he said, motioning to the waiter for the check.

He got this little twinkle in his eye. Not to get too poetic, but his smile was like when you feel the sun on your cheek for the first time on a really cold day. I wanted to marry him and have ten million of his babies right then.

"You know, Tinkerbell, if you can do this right, I'd have to admit you were a very good little girl," he said with a wink.

I didn't need to think about what he had said—my body reacted instantly. I needed to get out of this restaurant as soon as possible. The sooner I could get my mouth around Gabe's cock, the better I would feel. And it was only two weeks, I reasoned, before he would really make me a woman.

***

Even though it wasn't a "real" date, I was still nervous when Andrew (never Andy!) picked me up. I didn't want to make a fool of myself, regardless of whether I was really into the guy. Still, Andrew knew me from all the times I went to Gabe's band practice, and he was a great-looking guy in his own right: tall, brown hair a little shaggy but cute, with a face cut out more for a boy band than real, legitimate rock guys. (Don't tell him I said that last part!) If people from school saw us out together, I wanted them to be impressed, not entertained by me humiliating myself.

I was dressed in something Gabe had picked out for me, cute and flirty but not crazy sexy or anything: a shimmery navy top with tight black skinny jeans and some strappy heels that weren't too comfortable, but which looked pretty sexy, I guess. It's hard for me to ever think that I'm really looking hot or anything, but Gabe joked that Andrew was going to draw my face on a sock, which was both super gross and kind of sweet. My hair had grown out a little, but I still had the bob look going, with bangs, and I was starting to be OK with the glasses, especially since Andrew had a pretty similar pair on himself. It's a whole indie rock thing, I guess. This must be the best time ever to be a complete nerd, since pop culture has now decided we're cool and all.

My mom seemed totally surprised when Andrew showed up. She knew him of course, and I had told her he was taking me out, but I guessed at the time that she thought he wasn't going to show. It was weird, and made me a little edgy to start the date.

OK, I'm lying—I was actually a lot edgy to start the date. The reason why wasn't just my Mom, though—it was the fact that Gabe and Natalie had gone out at the same time. I totally knew, in my conscious brain, that nothing was going to happen between them. In my stupid subconscious brain, though, I kept getting these little pangs of terror, like he was going to find out that she was hotter than me, or could give him better head than I could. Hell, who knew? Stranger things had happened, starting with me jumping on Gabe in the first place.

Telling Natalie had been scary, but ultimately for the best. I never got the feeling she was judging me, though I was kind of concerned when she told me that she could understand why I'd be in love with a guy like Gabe. Natalie wasn't gorgeous or anything, but she was cute enough. If she actually tried, she could probably have pulled together a fairly sexy appearance, since she had the body for it, and the long hair. I was just happy she wasn't a blonde. 

Thank god for Andrew, though. As it turns out, worrying about how well a date is going is the easiest way to ruin it. I wasn't into Andrew, and I didn't want him to be into me, and consequently, I was just...myself. He was easy to talk to, and we even cracked each other up a few times talking about how awkward the whole situation was. Only, it really wasn't. I told him how much I liked the new songs he had written with Gabe and the other guys, Wyatt and Reed, and he told me he'd heard me play guitar, and that I wasn't half bad. I knew he was just saying that to make me feel good, but that doesn't mean it didn't work. What's funny is that, if it wasn't for Gabe, I would be totally into Andrew, yet on the flip side, I never could have talked to him or felt at all capable of even being out on a pretend date with him if I didn't have Gabe either.

The craziest thing is that Andrew got us into a bar, since the band had actually played there before. They wouldn't let us drink—believe me, I was fine with that—but we could hang out, listen to music, and even play a round of pool. That meant that nobody from school was even there. Who were we supposed to be making jealous there? At the time, it just seemed like a pretty cool date to be honest, though I felt a little bad for Andrew that he'd had to go out with his friend's sister instead of finding someone for himself. I was too naïve to see anything else going on.

Andrew took me home that night, and to my eternal gratitude, Gabe was already home, without Natalie. He was sitting in the living room watching TV with his dad, while my mom was in the dining room, poring over a pile of requisition orders from the library. She pulled me aside when I came in and looked really happy.

"Are you dating Andrew now?" she asked hopefully.

It was time to carry out Gabe's plan.

"Yes, Mom, we're dating," I said, pretending to be a little embarrassed. 

Mom seemed unusually pleased by that development.

"Honey, it's important to only be with one man at a time. Guys do not like a girl that sleeps around or—"

"Mom!" I interjected. "Settle down! We just started dating, and, yes, he's the only guy I'm seeing."

"I'm sorry, sweetie," she said, her face becoming more serious. "I'm just really happy that you're dating Andrew and no one else."

That was a bit too on the nose. That night I avoided Gabe, sending him a text that we would talk in the morning. I knew he'd miss his nightly blowjob—unless Natalie really had stepped up to take my place—but I couldn't risk it. 

Mom had clearly found out, at least something.

The next day was a Sunday, in our house, a day dedicated to church and football for the men, and cooking and reading for the women. My mom had started to go to church with Emmett after they got married, but in my heart I knew that she was still as much a heathen as I was. As for Gabe, I wasn't sure what God's policy on boning your sister was, but I was sure that whatever moral qualms he felt about being with me weren't all that strong.

All that meant that I didn't get a good chance to talk to him until halftime of the first football game, between the team with the angry looking bird and the team with the big blue star. I was afraid for us to be seen alone together, so I asked him to help me carry in some food from the freezer out in the garage. I had to make it quick once we were out of earshot.

"Mom knows," I said, quietly but with intensity.

He looked worried but not panicked.

"How much?" he asked.

"I don't know. She told me she was glad I was dating Andrew and not anyone else. She said that last part like ten times," I exaggerated. "It's like—read between the lines—she's saying not to date my brother."

Gabe grabbed a couple of bags of frozen French fries to carry inside with me.

"Keep going out with Andrew," he said. "Like, twice a week. She'll think me and you was a crush or something. Maybe a little fooling around."

My mind flashed to the thing that mattered to me most.

"What about us?" I asked, hoping my desperation wasn't too obvious.

"No more night time. After school's OK, but we've gotta be more careful. And no more going out together by ourselves. Group stuff only," he said.

I knew his plan was smart, but it still sucked. I mean, I had this perfect situation before, and now my stupid, lovestruck, puppy dog bullshit had made my Mom get suspicious. I had no idea if she knew how far things had gotten, but it was clear that she could never really know the truth. If I had to go out with Andrew, then...I guess there were a lot of worse things I could have to do.

That day was agony, not being able to be with Gabe. At night, I tried to masturbate, but it felt incredibly wrong, and not taboo-breaking, sexy wrong. Like betrayal wrong. It made me think of something that had always been at the back of my mind, ever since he called me "his woman": ownership.

What does it mean to be in love, to be devoted to someone? It can mean a lot of things. To me, it meant that someone else owned at least a part of me. That part was his, not mine, and it was out of my control. Gabe owned a lot of me. He owned my heart—I actually truly loved him. He owned me sexually—to decide to deny him anything, any way he wanted my body, felt totally wrong. On the flip side, it felt like just cumming without him, even if I was thinking about him, was like stealing from him. My orgasms weren't mine alone, they were for him, too. If anything, it made it so much better, not to selfishly cum, but to offer that experience to him. Even though he hadn't yet fucked me, I knew my pussy was his, and that he would take it when he wanted to.

Only, owning something isn't so simple. Could he sell me? Give me away? Hell no! He might not want me, but he couldn't make me want someone else. That was a line I wouldn't cross, and thank god he hadn't ordered me to do something with Andrew.

Only then, I though about it. What if he did? Let's say Gabe came in and told me that he wanted me to suck Andrew's dick. Would I say "no?" What if, on the flip side, Gabe told me that I wasn't going to get to cum? He had teased and denied me before, but for like an hour, or maybe a day. It had been all part of a joke about how fast and how easy I cum. What if he kept me from cumming for days and days or even weeks? It was genuinely terrifying.

Gabe had a power over me, but he never abused it. The longer I thought, and believe me, that night I did nothing but think, the more I realized how important that was. It was his own self-control that gave him control over me. Owning me—dominating me, using me, commanding me—only happened because I wanted it just as much as him if not more. And I only wanted those things because they made me feel more special, more beautiful, more loved than I had ever felt.

Somehow, I knew he knew that. I knew he knew that things that should have been humiliating—fucking my mouth really hard, making me beg, coaxing me into revealing how pathetic and worthless I thought I was—were instead all part of something greater. Gabe was letting me know that who I was, a submissive, nerdy, over-emotional little cum slut, was OK. Hell, better than OK: I was who he wanted me to be.

So what did I own? It's funny, because there's a part of me that can't imagine owning anything of Gabe, wouldn't want to. Anything I had from him was a gift, freely given, always able to be taken away. Yet, at the same time, I wanted his heart, all to myself, and if I'm being totally honest, I wanted, in some small way, to own his cock, not to control it, but to be the only girl—woman—that he needed to be the real man that he is. I knew that sharing him for a few pretend dates would be OK, but that it would break my heart if he ever told me that I'd have to share his cock with other girls. That was something I couldn't willingly give him, and I felt ashamed and disappointed in myself, because there were things that Gabe might one day want that I couldn't see myself giving him. If he needed a woman to accept him fucking other sluts (how I saw my competitors), then I knew it would ultimately kill me.

It's amazing the kind of shit that goes through your head when you're scared, horny, and lonely. School was hell on Monday, all day thinking about what would happen when we got home. Gabe drove me home that afternoon, and we barely spoke in the car, even though I knew we had so much to talk about. Thank god this was going to be our last week before Winter Break.

When we got in the house, he looked around for our parents, even though neither of them were supposed to be there. I guess his caution was understandable.

"Go upstairs, Rosie," he said. "No clothes by the time I get up there." 

In my undoubtedly clumsy way, I raced up the stairs to my room and stripped off everything I had on. I grabbed a pillow I'd used many times before, and put it on the floor. Most of the time, Gabe let me cushion my knees, though a few times he told me he thought it looked hot when my knees were all red and scratchy from giving him head. After that, I'd made the sacrifice, whenever I really wanted to get his attention.

Once I was in my familiar kneeling position, I knew I was ready to receive him. Gabe entered the room, still in his clothes.

"Not today, sweet pea. Lay on the bed," he said.

I obeyed, climbing onto my bed. The feeling of lying down in front of him started to get me even more aroused, and I had a sudden fear of Mom smelling pussy all over my comforter. It was hard not to get horny all the time, since Gabe and I did live together.

"Today is going to be different," he said, his voice more unsteady than usual. "I know how hard it's been for you lately. I want to encourage you. Spread your legs for me." 

I'm pretty flexible, and I made sure my legs were as far apart as possible, holding them up and open with my hands. When he told me to do things, I always got a little thrill of pride if I could do them better than he knew I could. I wanted to keep surprising him with how willing and how excited I was to please him. Gabe got a good look at just how wet I had gotten, and it wasn't long before he unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock.

My eyes got wide. Was he going to fuck me now? It hadn't been a month! I couldn't move, so paralyzed with anticipation I was.

"Rosie, your pussy is so beautiful," he said. "I want you to understand how much I want to bury my cock in you." 

He got up on the bed, up onto his knees, hovering over me. My arms were getting tired, but I knew I couldn't be presumptuous and wrap my legs around him, pull him into me. I'd just have to start working out more (or, you know, at all) to be able to do this better. I could feel the muscles in the back of my legs burn a little. Then he grabbed both of my legs with one hand, holding them up but a lot closer together than they were.

"I want it, too," I told him.

He smiled.

"Not now. Don't cum, Rosie." 

He placed his cock across my pussy. He didn't drop it there, or hump me, or anything else so uncontrolled. He just placed it there, the head nestled against my clit, his big, heavy balls right against my back door. He didn't move, but I could tell that, no matter how much I wanted to follow his commands, it wasn't going to work. The second he moved slightly, dragging his hard cock across my soaking wet pussy, I came, just a little, but enough that I couldn't hide it.

"I'm sorry," I told him. "I couldn't stop it." 

In so many of the stories I read, such a violation would be met with painful punishment. Only, Gabe wasn't reading some BDSM guide. He didn't need whips and chains, he wasn't some, like, vampire aristocrat, and we weren't in some gothic dungeon. We were on my bed, in my suburban house, and my step-brother was holding his cock along my pussy and moving about three inches. And I was cumming like a desperate slut all over it.

"It's OK," he said with a wry smile. "Try not to cum this time."

Again he started to move his cock, slowly at first across my slit, brushing slightly against my sensitive clit. I knew that, orgasm or not, I would cum again, soon. This time I made an even greater effort to resist. Even though he had smiled, I didn't want to disappoint him.

"You looking forward to me shoving this thing inside you?"

"God yes," I moaned.

"Aren't you going to try to jump the gun now?"

Suddenly it all made sense. There was his cock, inches away from fucking me, from taking my cherry. That's a forever kind of thing. I had gotten so hot that I didn't think about the stakes of what we were doing, but his words brought me back to reality.

"No," I said, fighting the orgasm off as best I could. "It's your pussy, not mine." 

Gabe smiled again. We both knew that, just as, in theory, I could thrust my pelvis upwards and fuck myself onto his cock, so too could he easily impale me with that monster. Only, he was too self-controlled, and I was too submissive to his wants and desires for that to happen. So there we were, both knowing that Gabe would fuck me when he wanted to, and I would take it with undisguised joy.

He was using his cock to tease me, to remind me that he could have my pussy whenever he wanted it, but that he wasn't a slave to it. Instead, I was becoming, if not a slave to him, then something like an addict. Having a guy just point his cock at your pussy and wait, barely moving, might sound like not a big deal, even boring. For a virgin with my "special circumstances," though, it was mind-blowing. It was like taking the sexual frustration and anticipation that came from virginity and amplifying it all in one moment. The barest movements of his cock, sliding across my pussy, were almost more than I could take.

"You're being a very good little girl," he said. "You can cum now."

With his permission granted, I stopped fighting it, and felt a massive orgasm, my second in the span of a few minutes, approach. Then, to make everything complete, Gabe placed the head of his cock—just the head—at the entrance of my pussy and slid the tip just barely in. I thought my heart might stop—don't French people think an orgasm is like death or something? I came so hard, and I knew that Gabe's cock, or at least the head, would end up covered in Rose Juice.

Was I still a virgin? I decided that I was, but just barely. I had gotten just a glimpse of what was to come, and it was enough to completely melt my brain.

"Ten days left on the first month of pills?" he asked.

It took me a moment to even process words.

"Yeah," I said dreamily.

He cocked his eyebrow.

"That's Christmas."

My chest was heaving. Things had been so crazy that I'd almost forgotten about even getting Gabe a present. I needed to get him something, something that I hadn't given him already, that is.

"Rosie?" he said, "we can't do this all the time yet. Just this once, till Christmas. But you need to learn to love the taste of your pussy on my cock."

He was totally right. He knew as well as I did that, even when he started to fuck me, I would still be freaked about him cumming inside my pussy. I think I would miss getting the chance to swallow his sperm anyway, and for that reason too, I knew there was a good chance that he would still mostly cum in my mouth.




My Master Down the Hall Ch. 03



I took his cock in my mouth, not deep at first, since I wanted to run my tongue over its sticky coating. It was truly weird to taste myself for the first time. It helped to think about how much this was pleasing Gabe. His breathing was getting heavy much faster than normal, and I felt a surge of pride and something like even cockiness knowing that just rubbing his dick lightly across my pussy made him get this way. It was an unusual feeling for me, but I enjoyed it for the moment. Thankfully, Gabe put me back in my place, though.

"Cum for me, Tinkerbell," he said, he thrust hard into my mouth an emptied his balls into me. 

The barest flick of a finger across my clit, combined with his command, were enough to send me over the edge once more, and I came for a third time, a smaller one, bucking my hips like I was fucking an invisible man. It had still been so intense that I instantly swallowed his cum without asking, and afterwards I was a little ashamed for disappointing him. He looked into my eyes.

"I noticed," he said, without having to be more specific than that. "Next time you do that, Tiny Tits, I'll have to do something."

"Tiny Tits" was the name he called me when I was bad. My cheeks were burning with embarrassment. I nodded, grateful that he was going to give me another chance. Gabe bent down and kissed me on the forehead.

"I've got band practice tonight," he said. "You should come to support your boyfriend."

I understood the double meaning. I was just glad I'd get to spend more time with him tonight.

"And your girlfriend?" I asked.

"If you're there, she's there."

***

Ten lunches and ten dinners. Three dates with Andrew. Four early presents from distant relatives. Eight blowjobs. Two orgasms of my own.

I don't want to say I was going crazy by Christmas but...I was completely losing my shit by Christmas. I hated that I had less time with Gabe now that we were trying to throw my mom off. Most of all, I thought about losing my virginity. How was it going to happen? I mean, I knew it would be great—that wasn't my worry. It was like waiting for a present, and knowing it was going to be the best present you've ever gotten, just not knowing what it could be.

To add to that, I was going to get a regular, normal brother-and-sister present from Gabe too. I had thought long and hard about what to get him and dipped deeper into my savings than I had expected. Gabe was a badass on the guitar, but I knew he played the keyboards for the band too. Despite that, he was stuck with an old, pretty lame keyboard. I couldn't afford some pro-quality, awesome keyboard, but Andrew told me all about various pieces of sound tech stuff that Gabe would love, as well as all the road gear they didn't have. I ended up getting him a really cool gig bag for his keyboard, one that matched his guitar case.

As for my present from Gabe, it looked kind of obvious wrapped up under the tree: it was some kind of large frame, like for a small painting or a big photo. It's funny: my mind immediately flashed to the possibility that it was a picture of me, covered in cum or with a cock in my mouth. I don't know why I always think of the most humiliating, dirty stuff, but that's where my head was at. 

We all gathered around Christmas morning to exchange gifts, together with Gabe's cousins, aunts, and uncles. It was always really sweet that people on his side of the family got me stuff too; mostly small, but really thoughtful. When it came time for Gabe to open his gift from me, people were really floored with how nice it was. I shot a look over at my mom, and it looked like she'd swallowed a fly. I started to think it was a bad idea to give him my real present in front of other people. I mean, it wasn't like I gave him silk pajamas in front of our parents, but still, it was a pretty nice gift to get from your step-sister.

Then it was my turn to open Gabe's gift, and when I saw it, I couldn't help but to start crying. The frame was beautiful, and obviously expensive. Inside it was a charcoal drawing, a good one, replicating the first photo Gabe and I ever took together, that day he helped us move our stuff into the house. Mom had taken a candid picture, and you can see me smiling in the foreground and looking up at Gabe as he carries my childhood dollhouse above his head.

"Did you have that made at the mall, son?" Mom asked, her voice sounding unsteady.

"No, Mom, I did it myself. I used to draw a lot more, but I haven't done it in a while. I guess it's a cheaper gift than Rose's—"

Gabe was interrupted by a sudden lack of oxygen, caused by a diminutive but not entirely weak redhead girl trying to squeeze the life out of him.

"I love it so much," I told him, aware of the look of disapproval from Mom. "It's perfect."

Honestly, the rest of the day was a blur. When we got home, Emmett had Gabe get his keyboard out to see how it fit in the case. Of course, it fit like a glove, and my step-dad complimented my taste. It was clear that he remained oblivious to anything going on between me and Gabe. Mom pointedly asked about what Andrew was doing for Christmas, but I told her that when you first start dating it's weird to spend Christmas together.

Late that night, Gabe woke me up. 

"C'mon," he said. "We've got to be quiet or they'll wake up."

We both snuck out of the house as quietly as possible. Gabe even put his truck in neutral to glide out of the driveway before starting it up in the street. We both locked eyes when the engine roared—even he probably wished he was driving a Prius or something at that moment and not a big, loud pick-up.

"Where are we going?" I asked, my voice doing nothing to hide my excitement and anticipation.

"Wyatt's family is out of town and I know where the spare key is. I can't give you your real present here," he said.

Holy crap—this was happening. I wanted to have on sexy lingerie, a face full of makeup, to psyche myself up for it all day. Who was I kidding, though? None of that stuff was really me, anyway. 

With all the smothering family time, I had given up on tonight being the night. Now here we were, sneaking into a friend's empty house to fuck. Only, as it turned out, that wasn't really it either at least not only.

I was scared when we entered the house. The key was there, just like Gabe said, but still I imagined alarms, dogs, police officers. This is what I meant when I said that danger was fun in a story but terrifying in real life. Gabe didn't flip on the lights, but instead closed the curtains and produced a lighter from his pocket. Following Gabe, illuminated by the orange flame, I went downstairs to Wyatt's family's finished basement. There, safe from the prying eyes of neighbors, we finally turned on the lights.

I'd been here before, following along behind Gabe as always, when the band had rehearsed. There was an old piano in the corner, and Gabe walked over to it.

"I loved my gift," he said. "Are you ready for yours?"

"What about the picture?" I asked. "I mean, I loved it, too. It was perfect." 

He looked genuinely humbled.

"I'm a better musician than I am an artist," he said. "I just couldn't sing my sister a love song in front of the whole family."

He started to play something, a tune recognizable though clearly different when arranged for the piano.

"Whenever I'm alone with you," he sang. "You make me feel like I am home again."

God, it was perfect. I knew this song.

"Whenever I'm alone with you,

you make me feel like I am whole again..."

I was transfixed. Even Gabe seemed like he was somewhere else; maybe he just needed to concentrate really hard to play the song and sing at the same time. To me, it looked like there was a lot going on in his head.

"However far away,

I will always love you..."

When he finished, I came over to him, wrapped my arms around him, and kissed him on the back of his neck. 

"Gabe," I said. "It's perfect."

What I wanted, more than anything in the whole world, was to make love to the man I loved, to give him my virginity tonight. In that moment, I wasn't in control, but he wasn't in control either. The concept of control, of power, of submission, or dominance lost all meaning.

Let me back up here, because it's getting a little heavy. Let's be honest, you can probably tell from the way I write when I'm horny, when I'm feeling playful, and when I just want to get something off my chest. If you've ever been in love and lust at the same time, like I was, you'll know how weird it can be to balance those things in your mind. For me, I loved be serenaded, but I also loved having Gabe shove his cock down my throat. I loved cuddling against him, sharing secrets and little moments of intimacy, but I also loved feeling a little scared, a little helpless, and totally at the mercy of Gabe the sexual beast. 

This is the mystery of being a girl, though the combination and the pieces are different in everyone. I don't really understand guys. Do they want things all one way? A total slut, or a total good girl? Or do they like balance too? What's that saying? "A lady in the street and a hooker in bed." I guess most guys want big tits, but don't some guys think that small tits are cute? I just know that finding the balance with every girl, the balance between light and dark, is tricky, but worth the risk. 

In hindsight, I won't even say that Gabe ever truly found that perfect sweet spot. The thing that made him so perfect to me, that loving bond that only exists between family, would always hold him back from ever being truly dangerous, and that was a good thing. I mean, I'm still young now, and I was even younger then. But now that—spoiler alert—we're apart, I can look back us together and wonder what would have happened had Gabe never played that song, if he would have told me to bend over that piano and fucked me in the ass while I played "Chopsticks." 

If things were a little different, that could have happened. Instead, I spent that night with my brother, and it was a different, but equally thrilling kind of high. My first time was with the guy I loved, who loved me so much that he had broken society's number one, oldest rule just to be with me.

I know you guys are used to me giving you all the sexy details of our little adventures, but for some reason I feel like saving just a bit for myself. Don't hate me! It's just that some things can't be described, and the first time you feel yourself cum, your pussy filled with the cock of your true love, the first time he makes you scream out loud, uncontrollably, the first time you lose sight of time and space and feel like your whole body is just one big orgasm? There aren't words, at least not words that I know, for those experiences.

I will say that my first time wasn't like some Hollywood movie or ridiculous porno. We were on the sofa, and at first I was having all kinds of insane, silly thoughts: someone would catch us, Wyatt's family would smell my pussy juice when they got home, they might have, like, a nanny cam. I was nervous too about Gabe's cock; as much as I wanted it inside me, I still couldn't imagine how something so big could fit. Of course, he took it slow, and I knew just the right way to make sure it was nice and wet, just like my pussy, before Gabe put it in.

Once it was in, I just remember feeling like every part of my body was more alive than it had ever been. No matter how lubed and ready I was, it still hurt at first. Once Gabe started to move, pulling it almost completely out only to slide it slowly back in, I think all those crazy thoughts started to go away—really, all my thoughts went away. Here's the crazy thing: it wasn't even about orgasms. I know I had them, maybe three. That wasn't hard for me, of course, since you all know I suffer from POPS (Premature Orgasmic Physical Syndrome, a disease I just made up for girls like me a little quick on the trigger). 

To get serious for a sec, though, it was just this incredible feeling of being simultaneously intensely vulnerable and intensely protected. I loved feeling Gabe's body on top of my mine; it was so different from the normal way I sucked his cock, where that was our only connection. Being underneath him was different than being on my knees for him, better I think. That first time, there wasn't anything probably different from any of your first times, if you don't count the whole brother thing. It was special and perfect, and I wouldn't change anything.

Despite what I thought would happen, Gabe came inside me, and I was glad for it. Even if normally I would prefer that he cum in my mouth, that first time it felt right to get that thrill of feeling the warmth of his cum fill me up. We had never even changed positions; honestly, it was going to take a lot more experience for me before I ever thought of myself as "good" at sex. I was just happy that he'd cum, and the look of total devotion and love for me he had on his face in the afterglow was priceless.

It took a moment before I felt him rise, his cock slipping out of me, leaving me empty though totally fulfilled.

"Clean it," he said hazily.

The master was back. For my first time, he was just Gabe, and I was grateful for it. Now, though, the little sub in me was happy to be back where she belonged. I greedily sucked his cock, tasting a mélange of flavors. It took little effort to get him hard again.

"What do you say?" he asked, taking on that even-keel, confident tone that made me melt.

"Thank you," I mouthed breathlessly, before pressing my face against his warm, wet cock.

He was hard enough to fuck me again, if he wanted. I was also prepared, of course, to suck him off again, if he wanted that too. My face was still pressed into his crotch, just silently worshiping him when I heard his voice.

"Rosie, tell me the truth about something," he said, pulling his cock away from my mouth.

For some reason, I felt a shudder of fear. What would he ask that required him commanding my honesty? Why would he ever think I would lie to him?

"Do you love me?"

"You know I do."

"Are you in love with me?" he asked.

I was afraid he might be freaked, but I knew I couldn't lie.

"Yes," I told him. "So much that it scares me."

"But you also want me to make you beg, order you around, make you cry? I mean, you always cum hardest when I do that kind of stuff to you, right?"

"Yeah," I said, suddenly feeling genuinely ashamed. "I'm...some kind of pervert or something."

Gabe ran his fingers through my hair, pulling my face upwards towards his.

"Rosie, we're in this together. We're both...people would hate us," he said, his strength tempered with the recognition of the very real danger we faced.

"I don't want to hurt you," he continued. "Do I have to hurt you for this? I mean, to make you happy?"

"No. Not hurt," I said, struggling to define my own desires for Gabe. "Just...make me feel small. Tell me what to do. You figured it out on your own just fine."

Gabe looked uncommonly serious. I knew this was what he was building to.

"Do I have to be that way all the time? It's hard when you love somebody..."

His voice trailed off. I had been so selfish. It was also about making him be what I needed, the perfect Dom who loved me, respected my limits, but turned me on the way I wanted. I guess I had always assumed that Gabe took to it because he was doing what he wanted. But now, the picture, the song. Gabe loved me, not just because I was a reasonably cute, exceptionally convenient cum dumpster.

Shit, the picture! When we first met: did he like me even back then? I had always assumed that he kind of accepted me once he got used to regularly having his balls drained. Now, it made me question all that. Things that I thought I knew were becoming ambiguous, mysterious. Change isn't always bad, but for me at least, it could be upsetting.

What did I want? I knew I didn't want Gabe going through the motions, disinterestedly ordering me around while regretting that we didn't have a more normal, albeit-still-totally-fucked-up-because-hello-incest-here relationship. Now I was the one, just like him, totally in love but also terrified of hurting the person I loved. Even thinking of Gabe like that, as a human, real person, capable of being hurt, and not some perfect, unreal master, was new and strange.

"Gabe," I said, my voice almost completely inaudible. "I've loved you since the day I met you. You're my only brother, you're my first kiss, you're my first time, you're my first love. I know that things are going to change now, but I...want you to know that I don't, like, worship you because it helps me get off or something. I just...you're on top because it's where you belong."

I was getting louder. It felt like someone else was talking for me.

"I only want you to do things that make you feel good. Just know that making you happy is what makes me happy. You don't have to do anything that feels wrong, ever, but I hope that..."

I trailed off, having run out of the right words. I searched my mind for a moment.

"I hope you like new things. Like this. Anything you can dream of, I want us to do it together," I said.

I looked into the beautiful, impossibly deep pools of his eyes, hoping to see a response.

"I love you, Rosie..." he said, with a quiet intensity.

"...and I can't wait to make you beg for it like a bitch in heat."

God, I have the best taste in guys.

***

The next morning, I woke up, in bed at home, of course, to the sound of knocking on my door. When I opened it, my mom came in, having clearly already gotten her morning caffeine.

"Rose, sit down," she said.

I knew immediately what this was about. I prepared myself for the worst.

"This isn't a discussion. This isn't a debate. You will do what I say, or else very, very bad things are going to happen."

I promised myself then and there that, no matter what, I would not cry. My mom was fidgety, and it was obvious she was intensely uncomfortable having this conversation.

"Emmett can never know. If you get careless, like last night sneaking out together...I will end this. You know I can. It will be like detonating a bomb in the middle of this family, but, I swear to God, if you make me—"

"Mom," I interrupted, confused. "Why aren't you telling me to stop?"

Her face relaxed, just a little.

"You love him, honey. And he loves you. Do you think I can't see that?" she said, with an air of maternal omniscience. 

I suppose I'll never understand what that's like until it's my time to have a kid. Great, now I'm thinking about that.

"And Emmett doesn't know?"

"Honey, he would have Gabe's ass if he knew," she replied.

"Why Gabe? What about me?" I asked.

"Emmett...he'd think Gabe took advantage of you, and there'd be no way to convince him otherwise. He looks at you like his own daughter. For Gabe's sake, sweetie, you have to be much more careful."

Once again, selfish me had forgotten to think about Gabe's risks in this whole relationship-thing.

"Mom," I said, holding her delicate arm, so much like my own, in my hand. "Thank you. You don't know what this means to me."

She looked at me, at once maternal and almost sisterly.

"Honey, I know you're like me. I see so much of myself in you."

She laughed.

"I even remember my mother having the talk with me when I met your father. Gabe is a good boy—a good man—but the secrecy...just promise me that you won't let things go too far. You're more in control with him than you know."

I remember thinking, holy crap, did my mom just imply that we were, like, part of a long family line of submissive sluts or something? It was a little surreal: reassuring and totally in line with everything I knew about her relationship with Emmett, but still really fucking weird to think about.

We hugged it out, and I was left alone in my room, more confused than ever. They say you can't control who you love, but maybe you also can't control how you love either. Nature, nurture, fate, none of it made sense. I'll have to tell you how it all turned out really soon.



My Master Down the Hall Ch. 04



In every part of your life—a relationship, a friendship, a job, whatever—there's a single best moment, the climax (stop giggling!) of the whole experience. It's that one point where everything is as good as it's going to get, and nothing is ever quite the same after that. The thing is, you never really know what that moment is until its gone. That's what I'm talking about today.

Sorry, it's me, Rose, again. I guess it's been a while, so I'll try to catch you up in a super-quick way in case you forgot all the scandalous details. Thrilling life experience number one: gave my gorgeous stud of a step-brother head in the cab of his pick-up. Then we became a "couple," by which I mean he let me give him a ton more blowjobs (and more!). Since we're, like, semi-related and all, we tried to throw our parents off the trail by pretend-dating our friends, Andrew and Natalie. When Gabe took my virginity at Christmas, though, Mom found out, though thankfully she didn't freak. 

OK—I think you're all caught up now.

I'm not going to start with that perfect, best day I was talking about. Nope, I'm starting with the day before, when I was sitting with my best friend Natalie, trying and probably failing to describe to her what sex was like.

"Does it hurt?"

"Ummm...yeah, but it's a good kind of hurt. And it hurts less and less each time," I assured her.

She seemed to be turning over the idea of "good pain" in her head.

"Is it hard?" she asked. "Like, do you need to be really...bendy?"

I giggled a little.

"It depends. Like, there's lots of ways to do it, you know, positions. The bendier you are, the more you can do."

"Do guys...I mean, I guess, does Gabe want you to do lots of positions?"

"I'm pretty flexible, so, well, yeah. But that's not just for him, either. I like the different feelings."

I could tell Natalie was afraid she'd lack the "skill" to have sex. Maybe my answers weren't helping her.

"Don't worry about that stuff at first, though," I promised her. "A guy will be thrilled to get a chance to de-virginize you. He won't expect you to pull any crazy porn star moves or anything. I mean, he might even like it that you don't totally know what you're doing, so he can show you."

If this would have been some other person, you'd say she was acting really shy, but for Natalie, this was pretty out there, like take charge behavior. It was kind of cool, actually.

"Well, it probably won't happen for a while," she said, sounding a little dejected.

I thought for a second, before realizing what she was saying between the lines.

"You want to do it, don't you?"

She looked panicked.

"I would never—I mean, with Gabe."

"No, of course not. I just meant...you wish you had...ummm...your own Gabe, right?"

She looked like she wanted to crawl into a hole and hide. I wanted to help her get out of her shell, but I didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable.

"Yeah...but what guy in school would do it with me?"

Like, most of them, I thought.

"Guys will totally fall for you if they think—if they think they have a chance. No offense, but right now, guys probably think you have no interest in sex or even dating, because you're, like, shy. I was too before Gabe," I assured her.

I let her think about that for a while, while we aimlessly flipped through magazines together.

"What do, you know, thingies look like?" she asked under her breath.

Keep in mind this is an eighteen-year-old woman with an internet connection at home.

"You've really never seen one in porn or anything?"

Natalie always made me feel way more experienced and savvy.

"I'm too nervous to look at that stuff," she said, with a weird kind of giddy nervous energy. "Even though I do, you know, want to see one."

"Anyone in mind?" I said in my most cloying voice.

She turned super red.

"Not Gabe! I promise."

"I know, I get it! We'll just need to find you a thingie to look at. Maybe even more than that," I said, tickling her sides and rolling across the floor with her.

"Natalie?"

"Yeah?"

"Say the word 'cock.'"

She looked puzzled.

"Why?"

"Because you should. It's part of your, like, practice."

Under her breath, like she was reciting some magic word, she spoke: "Cock."

"Good job. Now tell me—no, admit to me—that you would really like to suck a big cock."

I was teasing her a little, but in my own way I was trying to help her. She looked at me pleadingly, hoping I might break out laughing and free from the embarrassment of doing what I told her to do.

"Honey, look at me," I said, slipping into the role of cool, experienced slut that I was finding more and more enjoyable when I was around her. "I know what you want, and you know what you want. It will make things so much easier for you if you can just admit it."

She looked up at me.

"I really do. I want to suck a big...cock. And...I want it—I mean the guy—to, you know...put it in me. I want it a lot."

Guys, don't let your imaginations run wild here. We are not about to start scissoring here.

I've told you all before that Natalie could have been cute with a little work, only she herself would have had no idea what kind of work she needed. In different circumstances, I'd have really tried to build her confidence up, so she could get busy with her boyfriend. Only, her "boyfriend" was my boyfriend, Gabe. I like to think I'm a nice person, but I'm not that nice, and I sure as hell wasn't going to let her play around with Gabe's cock.

I started looking her over, though. I'm not going to give you precise measurements or a full-on description of her tits, because, hello, I don't know that stuff. I will say she had...potential: long, thick, curly brown hair that could use some hair treatment stuff to tame it, nice, full lips with a nice natural color, since she didn't wear lipstick ever, a good smile thanks to the orthodontist, though most guys never saw it.

Compared to me, she had a longer face, not cute and heart-shaped but more elegant and graceful. She was also taller than me, and looked older and more mature, if she would get out of the hand-me-down clothes she wore. It wasn't that she couldn't afford better stuff, either, just that she never seemed to try. She didn't want to stand out.

Natalie wasn't super skinny, but not fat either. Her body was more feminine than mine. (I hate hate hate having a body like a little girl.) All in all, with a little work, she could be at least as hot as some of the girls that guys in school tripped over themselves to ask out on dates. Her issues weren't physical; they were emotional.

"Natalie, you're totally hot," I told her.

"You're just saying that. Pretty much nobody else thinks that," she replied.

"No, really," I reassured her. "You just need to show that hair of yours that you're in charge. And maybe a few new outfits from this century"

I realize that "make-over" is a totally cliché way to try to transform the shy girl in glasses and paint-spattered overalls into a total high school hottie. Only, in this case, it was meant to be a lot more than that. 

My mom had known about Gabe and me for almost three months by this point. That was three months of holding hands, three months of passionate kisses, three (more) months of swallowing Gabe's cum, three months of secret, mind-blowing sex, and two months of getting tied up and spanked, too. Meanwhile, our dad didn't have a freaking clue.

To me, that meant we could drop the whole charade of pretend boyfriends and girlfriends. Gabe didn't need Natalie, I didn't need Andrew. My hope was that her experience with Gabe would give Natalie more confidence with guys. As for Andrew, I had never really understood why he went out with me, and I wasn't worried about his feelings too much. As it turned out, that was a huge fucking mistake that I can see clearly in hindsight.

At the time, though, break-ups seemed like the best thing for all of us. Natalie would be back on the market, fresh out of a relationship with the hottest guy in school (I'm biased), and ready to go on actual dates with actual romantic prospects.

"I've got a great idea," I told her. "Sleep over tonight. We'll go to school together tomorrow morning, and I'll totally dress you up and stuff. You're going to look so hot, and when guys see you, they'll have to roll up their tongues like in cartoons."

"But I'm with Gabe," she objected. "I mean, that's what they all think."

"Yeah, about that..."

***

"Looks like 'slut' was on sale at Goodwill."

I remember the nasty thing Ashley said to Natalie just as much as all the shit she ever said to me. She'd treated me like human garbage throughout middle school, right when I most needed to build up my confidence. And now, when Natalie was just trying to look pretty and meet guys for the first time, she was there to tear her down, too.

Only, when she said things like that to me, I just...took it. Now, when she said it to someone else, a friend, who had never done anything malicious or selfish towards anyone in her whole life, I was just sick of it. The weird thing is, I was, like, immune. Everybody knew that Ashley totally crushed on Gabe; I guess that's why she was out to get Natalie. 

People thought they were dating; now they heard they'd "broken up." I guess in a fucked-up way, dressing Natalie up the day she no longer had a boyfriend (even a fake one) might have sent the wrong message to the slut police who tell girls what they should or shouldn't do. To me, I think you have to be a pretty shitty person to try to tear down a harmless, sweet girl like her.

Natalie surprised me. She didn't cry like I would have. She was tougher than I gave her credit for. Maybe she was just so sick of being ignored that she could take a little hate from a jealous bitch like Ashley Moore because, let's not lie, she did look hot.

My mom had even pitched in on getting her ready today. We used a straightening iron to flatten out her hair—it wasn't totally straight, but the unruly curls had turned into a really nice soft wave in her hair, which looked awesome. I admit that the outfit of mine she was wearing was a little too small, but she didn't look a hooker or anything. She looked hot, and the maroon cotton dress she was wearing was a little long on me, so it was lower thigh on her, just right I thought. I guess if there was any problem, it was that Natalie had bigger boobs than me (not that surprising, I guess). 

I'd love to say that I came up with a brilliant yet simple plan to get revenge at the bitch who was laughing with her stupid friends about how big a whore my virginal best friend was. What I actually did was find Gabe and beg him to do something about it. I mean, he had all the leverage as I saw it. Ashley was in love with him, and that gave him a lot of power over her. He had that power over me too, of course, and I knew that a harsh word to me (and I don't mean things I liked, like calling me his "personal slut") would really wound. 

Only he didn't march over to their table and bitch slap Ashley. Instead, he...sauntered. Like, really smooth and sexy. And whispered to her. And she giggled.

Bitch.

When Gabe caught back up with me, he had the most deliciously evil grin. He gave a little sidelong glance to make sure no one could hear us.

"When I show you what I did tonight, you're gonna beg me to stick my cock in your ass," he whispered in my ear. "I guarantee it."

What's that old saying? He had a spring in his step. I mean, he was just totally floating on air. Meanwhile, I was sitting there thinking, "what the fuck did he do?" I was dying to find out how he had set her up on such short notice. I started to wonder what kind of dark stuff was hidden in my sweet, kind, but totally dominant brother's dirty mind.

Have I mentioned that I was also a total anal virgin, too?

No fingers, tongues, toys—and definitely no cocks. The whole rest of the day in school, I couldn't pay attention to class. That might seem like a pretty normal thing, but I actually like classes, at least the ones not taught by coaches. I just kept wondering what Gabe had done.

I daydreamed through the lesson on Dubliners, the one on Reagan's foreign policy, and the one conjugating the subjunctive one and two in my German class. That I even remember what the classes were about just shows what a big geek I was (OK, I won't lie: still am).

It was even worse in the car on the way home. Since Natalie slept over the night before, Gabe offered to take her back to our house to get the rest of her stuff before taking her home. That meant riding all the way to our place, then over to Natalie's, before I could ask him exactly what he had told Ashley. The second we were alone together, I begged him to tell me what was going on.

"Do you remember the day when you told me all the things you would do for me?"

I felt more feelings at that moment than I can even describe. When I told Gabe back in the fall all the things he could do to me—including some pretty heavy stuff, like anal, heavy humiliation, and peeing on me—I was desperate. I didn't think I had a chance to be with him, and I would do anything for him. After being with him for months now, I knew I didn't want it to end, either. Now, though, I was as scared as I was turned on.

"Yeah," I said, almost whispering.

"Well, you know and I know that the only reason we haven't gone that far is because I don't want to hurt you or freak you out. But...you know I love you. And there's stuff I want to try, and I hope you'll like it too."

I wanted to tell Gabe that this wasn't answering my question, but whenever sex came up, we both tended to slide effortlessly into our roles: he talked, and I listened. I probably liked it that way even more than he did.

"Well, I'm about to do something today," he continued, "that's either going to make you die laughing, break into tears, or get totally scared of your sick, twisted brother. Maybe all three. So, anyway, when you see what I get, you're gonna flip."

We were barely in the house when he got a text. He didn't look at his phone immediately—instead, he glanced around furtively, apparently making sure our parents weren't around. Then he pulled out his phone and, without looking at it, handed it to me.

"This is going to seem way less cool if it's, like, Wyatt calling to reschedule practice," he said with a smirk. "Who's it from?"

I looked at the screen: text from "The Bitch." I looked up at him for further guidance.

"Open the message," he ordered nonchalantly.

I did. Holy shit!

The first thing I noticed wasn't Ashley's tits or even her bare pussy. It was the look on her face. It wasn't nervous or even that fake pouty look that most girls put on for selfies. She looked totally horny. She must have wanted Gabe so bad. I guess I can understand.

"How's she look?" he asked, as if we were talking about the weather.

"Ummm, naked," was all I could reply.

"Tits?" he responded.

"Yep—two of them."

That made him laugh. There was this weird part of me that didn't want Gabe to look at Ashley naked, like maybe he'd see her body and lose interest in me. He didn't motion for me to return his phone or anything, so I just kind of stared at the screen. There was the bitch who'd made my life miserable for years, pressing her big tits together and showing off her totally bald cooch for a guy she wasn't even dating. And she'd called me a "slut."

"There should be—"

As if to complete Gabe's sentence for him, another text came in. It got worse—or better, depending on your perspective. This one was from behind: Ashley's hand spread her ass cheeks apart, and you could see her glistening pussy and even her puckered little asshole.

"—a couple more," he finished.

It took a minute before I got another picture. No way was someone taking these for her. That would be bananas. She must have been setting them up. I realized that somewhere across town, this stupid slut was snapping dirty pictures of herself to try to snag my brother—my boyfriend—the same day that she had talked shit about my best friend. The shock of seeing another girl naked on Gabe's phone had kept me from seeing it: Gabe's plan to help me get even with her.

The weird little techno-sound-clip-thingie that was Gabe's ringtone played: next message. She was probably cumming right now. In the picture, she had crammed a big dildo into her pussy, and she looked pretty far gone when the picture had taken. I suddenly understood Gabe's power in a new way. It felt good to know that he had made her this way, but I wondered how far he was going to go using these pictures. I felt a little guilty, but a lot turned on. There was even a weird part of my brain that thought it would be cool to, like, whip her bare ass. Maybe I've got a secret domme inside me, at least for girls I don't like.

"Does this girl not know about Snapchat?" I asked condescendingly.

"Oh, she suggested it, so the pics would go away. I told her 'no way,'" he replied shaking his head. "The deal was that I'd go out with her if I liked the pics she sent."

What?

"You're not serious, are you? Like, you're not going go, right?"

"Rosie," he said, lowering his voice, "do you like the pictures?"

I didn't know what to say. I'd learned a long time ago that when Gabe asked me questions, he didn't want me to try to give him the answer he "wanted." I always tried to be honest with him.

"She's really pretty."

"What's pretty about her?"

He must have known this was torture for me, but exactly the kind of torture that made my pussy wet.

"She has nice tits. They're...they've got a good shape. And her hair is pretty."

Gabe smiled.

"If she was naked in front of you right now, what would you want to do to her?"

This time, I didn't hesitate.

"I'd want to spank her slutty ass until it was red," I said, my eyes at the floor. "And...I'd make her watch you fuck me, but she wouldn't be allowed to touch you."

I could see Gabe's cock growing in his pants. He made this little head-turning motion, and I knew without words that it was time to go up to his room. I started to walk up there, but he held my shoulder back.

"I think you should crawl upstairs," he said.

This wasn't something I'd done before—I mean going all the way upstairs. It was kind of hard, actually, especially considering how Gabe kept stroking my ass and rubbing between my legs as I tried to navigate the stairwell.

Crawling on the floor, with Gabe behind me, was getting me hot, but having to tell him how sexy I thought my worst enemy looked was humiliating. I wonder what it's like for girls who don't get off on this sort of thing. For me, it made me desperate for Gabe's cock. Whenever he wound me up like this, it made it that much better when I could finally get it in my mouth.

"What if I had a different idea?" he asked, as I reached the top of the stairwell and turned down the hall. "What if I brought her over here and told you to lick her pussy?"

I focused on crawling, my eyes locked on the ground in front of me.

"Then I would lick her pussy until you told me to stop."

"And what if I fucked her right in front of you and told you to suck my cum out of her cunt?"

"Then I would try to get every last drop," I said, fighting the urge to tear up.

"And what if I did that every single day?"

We finally reached Gabe's room. I turned to look at him standing over me, my ass still in the air, open to his probing hands. Our eyes met.

"Then I'd die."

Gabe got out his phone and handed it back to me. Once again I was confronted with the naked pictures of the slut who wanted to steal my man.

"Write her back," he said.

I got up onto my knees, just inside the doorway, as he came inside and sat on the bed.

"What am I supposed to say?"




My Master Down the Hall Ch. 04



"Write this out word-for-word: 'Not good enough, whore.'"

My eyes must have gotten wider than those crazy Japanese cartoon chicks. My brain went on lockdown, because I didn't type anything.

"Now," he said forcefully. "The whore is waiting."

"I thought it was 'The Bitch.'"

"That was before the pictures. I don't need to see them—I could tell from the look on your face they must have been nasty."

I typed Gabe's message and hit send. 

In a matter of seconds, I got a reply: "WTF?!?!"

Gabe didn't even want to see what she had to say.

"Tell her never to fuck with my sister or her friends again."

I was dumbfounded but complied immediately.

"Now block her fucking number and get over here to suck my cock."

It was...awesome. Gabe had just totally destroyed my biggest enemy. I mean, she'd never fuck with me or Natalie ever again. How could she? We had the pictures. I couldn't help myself, so I asked a question.

"What are you going to do with the pictures?"

Gabe looked at me, and I could see the softness return to his eyes.

"Nothing," he said. "She might be a bitch, but it would be way wrong to actually show them to people. I'm not a monster."

Even though I hated Ashley, I was glad to hear him say that. I knew I'd feel guilty if they got out to people in school. I was especially glad that Gabe didn't want to look at them himself.

"So I should delete them?"

"Forward them to yourself first—and fast. I think I told you give me head."

I got over there as fast as I could, shedding my own clothes in the process. I took Gabe's erect cock into my mouth and felt its warmth as I wrapped my tongue around his head. This wasn't the time for delicate little licks: I wanted to show him just how much I wanted him, and the only way to do that was by blowing his mind.

I go into a little zone when I'm giving head, where the only thing that exists in the whole world is my mouth and his cock. It's like we aren't two people, but one, connected at all times, even if it's only a strand of spit. I don't focus on how wet my face gets (I produce a lot of spit because I choke myself on his cock a little to get it going) or if I look sexy doing it. I just focus on the motion of the cock, sliding in and out of my mouth and throat, my tongue never just laying there limp but always bathing the cock, tickling the sensitive parts under the head.

Gabe took me out of that zone when he spoke to me.

"How much does she wish it was her?"

I know what he meant, of course. He had forced me to admit that Ashley was hot, but now he was reminding me that she didn't have him, I did. Only, that wasn't what I was thinking about. I was thinking about Natalie.

I felt Gabe's cock push past the ring of my throat, where it used to choke me. Now I took it in with pride, but there was the thought: would Natalie gag?

The things I did automatically were suddenly fascinating to me. My fingers stroked Gabe's balls, and I wondered if Natalie would think that balls were strange. I mean, they are, right? But I love the feeling of Gabe's balls in my hands, because even when I'm on my knees, sucking cock, I like the feeling that I'm being trusted, too—those things are delicate, and Gabe trusts me to give his balls pleasure and never pain.

I didn't have much time to think about the taste of cum, and whether Natalie would be brave enough to swallow, because soon my mouth was filled with the warm feeling of Gabe's cum, spurting out. I say I couldn't think, because this is one of my favorite moments in the whole world—always will be—because a good blowjob (unlike a bad blowjob)—is actually hard work, and when you love giving them, that means you love getting a mouthful of reward, too.

I always wait for permission to swallow. 

"Show me."

I opened my mouth to show him the load he had given me.

"That's just for you. No one else, Tinkerbell. Now swallow and clean me off."

I did, feeling that familiar but still strange feeling of cum going down my throat into my belly. With Gabe's fingers entwined behind my head, pulling my hair back just enough to cause a tiny, not entirely bad feeling of pain, I realized what he meant today. What he had done was awesome, incredible, and came from love and concern, not just for me, but for Natalie, too. But the way he did it: it was, at least a little, cruel, and it hurt. He hurt me, but just enough to make me feel it. He made me see, not for the first time, how much I wanted him, how much I'd do for him, and how much he sacrificed to be with me, all at the same time.

It was easy to forget after being with Gabe for months that, while I'd never been with anyone else, he had a lot of options. He had been faithful to me, even when he was technically "dating" my best friend. I owed it to him, not just to agree to whatever he wanted, but to actively submit to his desires. That meant for me that I needed to show him just how much he meant to me, and a little pain was an important part of that.

"Gabe," I said. "You were right. I...I want you to do it."

Gabe looked down into my eyes, his cock just starting to deflate.

"Tell me what you want me to do."

I knew what he wanted, and I wanted it too.

"Gabe, please fuck me in my ass. I want your cock deep inside me, and I want you to fill up my ass with cum."

"I will," he said, "soon. But I don't want to rush that. For now, we've only got an hour before Mom and Dad get home. Get me hard again so I can fuck your pussy."

Yes, sir.

***

Living at home was great, and it was terrible. On the one hand, it was awesome to get to live with my boyfriend, to have the chance to get Gabe's gorgeous cock in my mouth whenever I wanted it. On the other hand, sex is messier, louder, and longer than a blowjob, and with parents around all the time and nowhere all that private to go, we had sex less often than I would have wanted.

If Gabe was going to take my anal virginity, I wanted him to go slow. The last thing I wanted in the whole world was for Mom and Dad to come home and find Gabe shoving his dick up my butt. That thought was a total lady boner-killer. That meant having total privacy for a long time, and it didn't happen for a couple of days.

As luck would have it, the first night that Mom and Dad would be totally 100% away fell on the same night that Gabe's band was playing a pretty big show at a club downtown. It was bad timing, but I held out hope. Enough hope, in fact, that I worked up the courage to go to a sex shop the next town over. Yes, I was scared enough that someone I knew would see me that I passed, like, three perfectly good stores to go to one in Millettsville. Maybe if I was buying a vibrator or some condoms or something, it would have been one thing. I was buying a bottle of Astroglide and a couple of butt plugs (when you're not sure which one you want...) and didn't want my math teacher seeing me.

Mom and Dad were attending a wedding in the next state over, so they would be gone until tomorrow afternoon. Meanwhile, Gabe was off getting ready for the show. That left me alone, staring at my options: small pink latex, medium purple glass, and why-did-I-buy-that-huge-fucking black silicone monstrosity. (OK, so confession: to all my anal pros out there, they were all probably pretty small to you guys). Like always, I started by doing my homework. I knew it would be best if I could relax and get used to putting something up there. I probably should have been doing this for weeks, but later is better than never.

I'm not going to linger over this too much, but I will say that the weird thing I learned was that the hardest one to get in was the first one, the little pink one. I did what you're supposed to do, which is use lots of lube, push out, relax, etc. Only it was a real bitch to get that plug into my ass for the first time, and it hurt, even when I was in total control of it. 

I found the best possible clip compilation of anal sex ('cause that's how I roll) to get my brain—and vagina—on the right track. And what worked was just time. I played at it for a long time, and when it finally slipped in, it was easy. After that, going up to the bigger plugs wasn't all that hard even. It's like my ass needed to learn that it could—and would, really soon—accept a cock. Surprisingly, my favorite one was the medium-sized glass one, and I broke my own rule about masturbating when it was in me because I wanted to see if I could cum with something up my butt. Obviously the answer was "yes—really hard," although I still didn't know how much clitoral stimulation I would need to cum while Gabe was fucking my ass. 

In any case, I knew that tonight was going to be a scary, exciting, crazy new step in my relationship with Gabe. To any non-subs out there, this is going to sound nuts, but here it is: my only concern, once I knew that that my ass could take a cock, was that Gabe wouldn't be disappointed with the experience of taking my anal cherry. 

It seemed like, well, a kind of milestone, and I wanted him to feel and do whatever it was about anal that seems to make guys go crazy. I suddenly realized that there was something I was missing, too. Gabe always made me verbalize my feelings and experiences. It made me an open book to him, and I think he knew that I got off on being so open and vulnerable to him. But, to be honest, I wanted to understand how he felt too, and I thought it would be hot to have him describe dominating me. If I was going to let him stick his big cock in my tiny butt, then he was at least going to have to tell me why and how much he loved doing it.

***

Andrew was looking at me a lot when the band came on stage. My first thought was that he noticed I wasn't dancing like everyone else. Their stuff is pretty danceable, with techno bleeps and bloops and drum tracks and stuff. (I must sound so lame right now!) Everyone, and I mean that pretty literally, was dancing and moving. They were good. Except I wasn't, because I was nervous and I still had the smallest of the three butt plugs in my ass.

I was starting to rethink my plan once I realized how embarrassing it would be if someone found out. It had seemed like such a good idea: get myself ready for tonight and shock Gabe with the sight of a plug in my ass already when he got me naked. Only it felt like everybody who looked at me could see right through to the piece of rubber giving me an anal stretching. 

The band really only had a handful of originals, so most of their songs were covers, and they usually picked up-beat stuff. Andrew kept looking at me, and I smiled back. It was weird, because Gabe was mostly kind of spacy on stage, like always. Andrew didn't seem to be focusing on anything or anyone but me, and when they started a slower song, our eyes locked. 

It was a love song, or at least I think so. It wasn't so straight forward like a pop song would be, but for some reason, it seemed really...sexy.

Oh. My. God.

For the first time, I stopped being stupid when it came to Andrew. He liked me. No, that wasn't enough. He wanted to fuck me.

It's really weird to have an epiphany that a cool, hot guy wants you bad when you're mostly preoccupied with the weird piece of rubber up your ass. I kind of wanted to get away, to have a chance to think about this. I mean, I didn't want to actually do anything about it, but it was at least something I needed to consider. Andrew and Gabe were friends, and Andrew had no idea the guy I wanted was my step-brother. 

Instead of running away, I just waited until the show was over, studiously avoiding Andrew. If you know anything about breaking down sound equipment, you'll know that took a while, but I finally found Gabe. He had a huge smile, and it took me a minute to figure out why: he could tell from the way I was waddling that I was plugged. I thought it was paranoia, but, shit, maybe I was giving off a butt-plug-vibe to people.

"I guess you found a way to prepare for tonight, huh?" he asked playfully.

I was suddenly in a less playful mood, though.

"Yeah," I said, before changing the subject. "That was a new one, right? The slow one?"

"Yeah, it's Andrew's song. He had almost the whole thing by himself, and just brought it in a few weeks ago," he responded. "Do you like it?"

"It was great," I told him. "Like...hot."

Gabe arched his eyebrow.

"Interesting. I'll have to tell him you said that."

I couldn't tell if he was serious, or if he was trying to turn up the heat on me. I felt flustered and nervous all of a sudden. Did Gabe suspect that Andrew had feelings for me? Was I just imagining this on the basis of him looking out at a familiar face? It couldn't be all in my head, though: a lot of stuff had started to make sense, about why he kept going out with me when there was nothing in it for him. I wanted to tell Gabe not to tell Andrew, but that seemed suspicious.

"No!" I said imploringly.

All this emerging drama was going to have to wait. I hadn't stuffed a plug in my ass for nothing, and I was just going to have to deal with this new realization after I'd given Gabe my ass.

"Let's get out of here," I said. "I've got...something for you to fill."

Gabe laughed.

"Your dirty talk needs work," he said with a smile. "Now walk to the car so I can watch your sexy ass before it's full of my dick."

I loved when he talked to me like that. Suddenly, I couldn't think about anything else. After days of anticipation, it was finally going to happen.

When I sat down in the passenger seat, I could feel the fullness and pain of the plug in me. Even though I had mostly gotten used to it, it still felt incredibly weird and uncomfortable. What was weirder, though, was that the pain and strangeness was also making me want to rub my clit again, like before. Part of it was reading about how the good feelings from my pussy can help relax the muscles back there, and part of it was just getting horny thinking about getting fucked in the ass (!) tonight.

It wasn't that I was no longer scared or anything, only that the excitement was starting to take over. Only I didn't touch myself down there; breaking that rule once was enough. Only Gabe could get me off. That pussy belonged to him.

When he got into the car, I expected him to talk, but instead, we drove home silently. My heart was beating like a hummingbird. We pulled into the drive-way, and Gabe shut off the car.

"Tinkerbell?"

I loved when he called me little names. He used to switch them around, but that one had become his favorite.

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, Gabe."

"How does it feel?"

"To be in love?" I asked.

"No," he smiled. "To have a plug in your ass."

"Weird," I replied, "but probably a lot better than trying to take your huge cock in my ass unprepared."

"I wouldn't do that to you," he said.

I paused. I wanted to say exactly what I meant.

"It's OK to hurt me. A little. I mean, it's going to hurt. And...I'll try hard to take it, but I might...I might have to tell you to slow down. I don't like doing that kind of—"

"Rosie, I'm serious," he interjected, "you tell me what feels OK and what doesn't. This isn't about hurting you. It's about—"

Now it was my turn to interrupt.

"Not holding back."

"Yeah," was all he said, before escorting me into the house.

We got inside, and Gabe took my hand and led me to his room. We still didn't speak, and I felt nervous, though ironically not about getting fucked in the ass for the first time. Instead, I was nervous about asking for something from Gabe.

"I want to see it first. Take off your clothes."

I started to strip. I didn't bother to do anything seductive or slinky—again, that's not me. Once I was naked, I turned around and got down on all fours, so he could see the plug.

"Goddamn, that's so hot," he said, dropping that little bit of detachment that he'd built up over the past few months.

It was thrilling to think that, instead of being in total control, the sight of my little ass might make him lose his composure. He seemed almost flustered, and that moment was my opportunity. I turned back to see a look of unbridled lust in his eyes. I didn't have a ton of natural confidence, but being with Gabe gave me an education in how to get what I want when I really need it.

"Gabe, I want you to do something for me."

He looked a little surprised that I was making requests. Normally, he called all the shots.

"What is it, Rosie?"

"I always talk—tell you things. I want you to talk this time. I want you to tell me what you're thinking...and what you're feeling, when you're doing it."

"Doing what?" he said archly, once again in control.

"Fucking me in the ass," I said, pretending to admit the dirty thing we were about to do with reluctance when in reality I was loving the idea more and more.

"Right now I'm thinking that your ass looks fucking incredible, and I can't wait to stick my dick in it, and I'm feeling uncomfortable because my pants are still on."

Once he freed himself from his jeans, I got a good look at that beautiful cock and felt a tingle spread across me when I thought about what was about to happen. Yet I wasn't totally satisfied with the way he answered. Like a lot of girls, I wanted my guy to talk from the heart about his feelings. I guess I thought it would be easier if the subject was a no-brainer like why he loves anal, while he's getting some anal.

He ran his hands over my ass, until his fingers reached the plug.

"Please" I begged.

"You want me to speed things up?" he said with amusement.

It seemed like he hadn't understood me, until, suddenly, he did. He looked in my eyes; he was naked, down on his knees, petting my ass and wiggling the plug inside it, while I was there, on my hands and knees, breathing heavily and waiting, knowing that very soon something potentially very painful but also thrilling and maybe amazing was about to happen. And we just locked in.

"I'm thinking how lucky I am," he said in a low voice, "that I found the girl of my dreams. And I'm thinking that I don't care you're my sister—step-sister, whatever—because I'm fucking crazy about you. And I'm thinking about every other guy in the world who would give anything to have you, on your knees, begging to suck their cock."

I thought I was going to cry, only, thank god, this time I didn't. Gabe's fingers dipped down to stroke my pussy, just on the outside at first. It wasn't long before I started getting wet for him.

"And I'm thinking about how you make me feel every time, and it's not just because I tell you what to do or you make me cum, even though, you can do things no girl could ever do. At least not for me. No, what I'm thinking about is how good it feels when I make you cum, because that's what makes me feel like a man."

Gabe was normally a man of few words. It felt good to hear him open up, even better than his fingers inside me, stroking the upper wall of my pussy. He paused for a second, and I assumed it was over. It was all sweet, and I loved it. I loved him and I loved that he loved me. But he wasn't done, and I have to admit, I loved what came next, too.

"Rosie, I love you. You're my sister. You're my girlfriend...but you're my slut, too. And I love fucking your slut mouth—"

I stuck two fingers of his left hand far into my mouth, gagging me a little, before withdrawing his spit-covered fingers.

"—spanking your slut ass—"

He slapped down hard on my ass with his now wet palm, two fingers from his other hand still inside me. I could feel the plug jiggle.

"—and pounding your tight fucking pussy."

He brought his fingers up to my clit, and I couldn't stop. I came bucking against his hands and struggling to hold myself up.

"I'm not pretending. I fucking love you, but...you made me this way. I love fucking the shit out of you and I still get off on all this."




My Master Down the Hall Ch. 04



He started to tug on the plug, and I felt the pressure. It slid out a lot easier than it went in, and Gabe got around behind me, but not before he turned me around a little, until I was facing a full-length mirror.

That's not normally here, I thought. He planned this.

"Now I'm going to fuck your ass, and that's for me. It's to make me feel good. I don't care about that plug—my cock is big, and your ass is little and tight."

He didn't wait. I felt him line his cock up to my hole and press it in. Thank god my ass didn't even try to resist, though the feeling of pressure and, yes, a little pain forced me forward, so that my head was almost against the ground and my nipples were brushing against the carpet, tickling them. I let out an involuntary cry—of pain, pleasure, and shock.

"I own your pussy, and now I own your ass. That's mine."

Gabe held his cock in place for a while, and I felt heat and pressure that was totally unlike the toys. Evidently while I was hypnotizes by his words, he'd taken the opportunity to lube himself up really good. My head was still down. Then, he started to stroke, in and out, slowly building up a rhythm. It hurt—not terribly, but still some, and I was holding myself up, so I couldn't play with my pussy, either.

"Look at yourself," he demanded, and I raised my head to stare in the mirror.

"Did you ever think you'd be a hot fucking slut with your own brother's cock in your ass?"

I could barely speak.

"No," I said, my voice contorted with pain and emotion.

It was getting harder for him to talk now, too, though he couldn't stop breathing hard and moaning. He must have been enjoying the feeling, a lot more than I was at that point.

"I. Love. This. Ass." he panted, really starting to thrust hard into me.

You would think it would start to hurt more, but something weird happened: it started getting, well, better. His cock was sliding almost effortlessly in and out, and the stimulation was starting to feel better. There was still pressure, but much less pain. He wasn't thrusting so hard as to really pound me, but he was picking up speed, and from what I saw adding more and more lube on his out-strokes. It was working, helping him to move in and out faster and more smoothly.

He didn't stop talking, either, even though it got harder for him to get a full sentence out.

"I like that you can't say 'no,' to me, that you don't want to," he growled. "I like that you want this just as much as me. I like that you're my...anal...fucking...whore."

He punctuated the last few words of that sentence with hard thrusts, looking straight into my eyes through the mirror. I locked into his eyes, and suddenly I realized what I'd done.

I've got a phrase for it now (thanks, college!): making the subtext text. It means taking the unspoken meaning of something and broadcasting it out, which changes things or something (sorry for not always totally listening, college!).

He was right, of course, and I didn't feel bad about it. Getting fucked in the ass by your brother is way beyond normal high school sex stuff. I was—am—kind of a slut. OK, a raging slut. The thing is, I don't care anymore. I liked being Gabe's slut. I liked giving him control of me. I liked that he liked it, since I had always suspected I'd kind of forced him into this whole arrangement in a weird way. 

Having someone basically call you fuckmeat might sound degrading—shit, it is 'degrading'—but when you grow up as a nerdy, loser nobody and the hottest, most perfect guy you know completely loses his mind and picks you to be his fuckmeat, it's a huge step up. And looking back, I totally respect the honesty. You can love somebody and also love the fact that they're your cum bucket, just like you can see yourself as a good, maybe even special person and still want someone else to make you their cum bucket.

I remember seeing myself in the mirror like it was another person, Gabe fucking her, not me. He could've reached down to try to get me off, but we both knew this wasn't about that. I didn't need to cum; this was for him. 

I saw his face change. He was way past words at this point. It was like magic, like I could see right through him. I couldn't even feel the pain anymore, and then I felt this surge of warmth in my ass. I was so happy that it was over, not because it was bad, but because it meant that I had done it, I hadn't chickened out or gave up.

Gabe pulled his cock out and basically collapsed on the floor. I nestled up beside him and looked at his big, stupid grin on his face. God, I loved him.

***

Remember the part at the beginning? Where I told you I had the high point of my relationship with Gabe? It was that look he gave me, right after filling my ass with his cum. It was just this look of total disbelief that what had just happened was real. It was a look of gratitude, devotion, and a kind of possessiveness, like he had just claimed my ass for himself and was never going to let it go.

I felt elated. I felt sore. I felt like I was living in a dream.

In six weeks, we would break up.



My Master Down the Hall Ch. 05



Wow, so this is it. The end. The big one. The last hurrah. The final act. The...umm...grand finale.

This semester has been killing me, and I haven't had much time to write, but that's not why I haven't posted this chapter. To be totally honest, this is the part of the story I hate: the "break-up." I used the quotes there because, not-so-spoiler alert: when you date your brother, you can't really ever "break up." There's no going your separate ways forever, which is good and bad all at the same time.

I kinda teased this last time, but it's time to let it all come out. I might end up looking like a selfish bitch here, but screw it—I'd rather be true to the story than sugarcoat it just to make myself look good.

Since the first time that I went down on Gabe, I had been living in a dream. The longer we were together, the more stuff we did together, the harder I fell. I wasn't just in love; I was under his spell. It seemed to me like the only thing that mattered in life, the only thing that made me happy, was being with him.

Only life keeps going while you're dreaming. Mine caught up with me that day I got a thick envelope from Armstrong College.

In a lot of ways, I'm smart. I can count really high. I know how fucking magnets work. I use words good.

In other ways, I was—maybe still am—hella stupid. Like, I-didn't-think-about-Gabe-and-me-going-to-different-colleges-because-I-was-too-busy-blowing-him stupid. I mean, I thought about other stuff, too: I went to class, I watched Breaking Bad, I learned to cross-stitch. For the most part, though, my mind was totally fixated on Gabe (and his dick), if not 24/7, then like 22/7. I wanted it in me at all times. I hated days when we had to do stupid stuff that kept us apart. I wished I could wake him up every morning by deep throating him. You know, in lerv.

At first I didn't open the envelope. I thought about how expensive private tuition was. By my calculation, four years at Armstrong would run us approximately eleventy billion dollars. (Told you I could count really high.) And it was going to be cold there—Vermont cold. Besides, their Comparative Literature Department was only, like, seventh-ranked. Losers.

Basically, I didn't need to think about how I felt. Gabe was going to Ohio State. That's where I belonged, too. I just hoped he'd get his own room, because I definitely didn't want some roommate cramping our style. I even had fantasies about the off-campus apartment we'd convince Mom and Dad to rent us: I'd have floor pillows strategically placed all over the place, a smart move for a dick-sucking addict like me. It would have been awesome.

I just needed the excuse not to go, to explain why I'd turn down collegiate filet mignon for state school meatloaf. The only excuse that made sense was money. I even prepared a little speech of noble self-sacrifice, explaining why I'd give up the dream of Armstrong to help the family budget.

All that went out the window when Emmett read the letter. His eyes glazed over.

"Rose, honey," he said, on the verge of tears for the first time in my memory, "you're everything I could ever want in a daughter. Your mother and I are so proud of you. A full ride!"

Both Mom and Gabe looked shocked. I guess I did, too; at least, I hope they interpreted it as shock, and not what it really was. I was crushed.

"I don't know anymore," I stammered, "maybe Armstrong isn't right—"

"Baby, don't be scared," Mom said. "I know it will be a big change, but this is such a tremendous opportunity."

I wasn't sure what she meant by "change": was she just talking about was just about college, or was she talking about being apart from Gabe. I mean, she knew about us. Did she want us apart? 

I looked into Gabe's eyes. I needed him.

"Check out the big brain on Brad!" he said.

Mom and Dad missed the Pulp Fiction reference, because they are so very old and lame, but I got it and even smiled a little. 

"I'm telling you, it's Brett, not Brad," I said, momentarily getting lost in just talking to Gabe, as if this huge fucking thing hadn't happened.

But it had happened, just now, and all my dreams were up in the air.

"I want to go to State with you," I whimpered. 

I couldn't let on why in front of Emmett, of course, but I wanted Gabe to know that I wasn't happy about this. Maybe he could help me come up with a plan to get out of this. Gabe took a second to respond, which felt like an eternity.

"That...that would have been cool...But this is cool, too. We can visit each other—it'll be fun," he said, forcing himself to sound upbeat.

We all went out to eat in celebration that night, but I just kept feeling sadder and sadder. Long-distance? I mean, I could never cheat on Gabe, of course. That meant a ton of celibacy. It sucked. It also meant a parade of sluts trying to steal him away from me. I know, I'm the jealous type. It sucked, and no amount of stupid Olive Garden was going to make me feel better, breadsticks be damned.

I wasn't going to get the privacy I needed at home, so that night I told Mom that I wanted to take a walk around the neighborhood with Gabe. We walked towards Alum Park, neither one of us wanting to start this conversation.

"So, you don't seem thrilled with the news," he said, in the understatement of the century.

"I hope you're not either," I replied. "It's going to break their hearts when I don't go."

Gabe squeezed my hand, holding me back from walking.

"What are you talking about?"

"I mean, I'm not really going. We just have to find the right way to explain I'm going to State. We could—"

"No," he said firmly.

I stood there, dumbstruck for a moment.

"What do you mean 'no?' Like, do you want to tell the truth or something? About us?"

He shook his head.

"No, I mean you're going to Armstrong. It would be stupid to pass up that chance."

"I don't want to go," I said, a little upset by now. "I want to be with you."

Gabe looked conflicted.

"You don't want to go because of me. So it'll be my fault when pass up the chance of a lifetime to go to fucking State. Rose, you realize you're a hundred times smarter than—"

"Stop it," I said, probably sounding melodramatic. "I don't give a shit about that stuff. I don't want to be smart. I don't want the 'chance of a lifetime.' If you're at State, I'm at State."

Gabe's face was hard to read.

"Let's walk," he said, taking my hand again.

We walked in silence to the park. Things were tense. I could tell he was thinking things over, and I had a rush of optimism, like he understood how serious I was now.

"Sit down," he commanded, and I obeyed like always. "I can't tell you what to do."

He didn't seem to grasp the irony of that statement. Maybe he was too upset.

"You're gonna do what you're gonna do," he continued. "But it's not going to be my fault you throw this opportunity away. I mean, Christ, Rosie, we're eighteen years old. You only get one chance at this—"

"That's what I' talking about," I interrupted. "I get one chance with you! College is college."

It was an unfamiliar experience, not only interrupting Gabe but arguing with him. It felt wrong. To be honest, my whole "fuck college" attitude was new and completely a product of our relationship. I had always been one of those nerds, dreaming about her college major in grade school. This was supposed to be the culmination of my whole life, my dream come true. Only my dream had already come true, and this was only there to take it away.

"Rosie," he said, resuming where he was going before, "you can do what you want. We can do the long distance thing with you at Armstrong. We can make it work. But...I can't be the one that made you throw your future away. It can't be me. So...there won't be an us if you don't go to Armstrong."

It felt like being punched in the gut. Normally, I would cry, but it actually hurt too much to even tear up. I felt nauseous.

"Long distance? That's hopeless..." 

"It's that or nothing," he said, shaking his head. "I love you too much to—"

I just remember turning and running at that point. Gabe must have followed behind me, but I can't really remember. I do remember locking myself in my room and crying until I almost made myself sick.

Later that night, my mom came to me. I assumed that she was going to tell me that things would be OK, but she didn't. What happened next was different.

Once she calmed me down a little, she asked me what had happened, and I told her. Then she asked if I knew why my dad left. When I told her 'no,' she told me the story.

"Honey, you're a grown-up now," she said, "and you can understand a lot of things now that you never could have before. I met your father when I was young—too young. You know all that. But I fell so in love with him. I would do anything for that man. And he—he didn't always think about how I felt when I was doing those things for him. Look at me, honey. What you've got, with Gabe? It can't be about you just giving things up for him, doing things for him. Because I gave and gave to your father, and he...he made me feel a certain way about myself...a bad way. 

"And in the end, do you know why he left me? Because I'd given away so much that I didn't have anything left to give. I made him my world, and once he had all of me, he found someone else. I know for a fact that Karen isn't half as good to him as I was, but it didn't matter. He used me up, and it took a long time before I was whole again, and I found a man who appreciates who I am and isn't just out for himself.

"I'm not saying that Gabe is like your father, baby. He is a good man. I'm trying to tell you that giving up your dreams—making yourself a smaller person, a worse person, somebody too scared to follow her own star? That's not going to work either. That's what I did, and that's not what I want for you. So you're going to go Armstrong, and be whoever you want to be, and if this thing is meant to happen, honey, then nothing is going to stop you. And if it's not? Then better now than later."

Mom didn't wait for me to respond; as soon as she was done, she left me alone again. And maybe, just maybe, that's when I started to go crazy. Two weeks later, I almost ruined everything.

I told you guys a long time ago about my...impulsive streak. I'm meek and mild 99% of the time, and then I just snap. I think what set me off was something I started to do, all the time.

Things never really went back to normal. We didn't totally stop seeing each other, but it felt...strained. And when I was alone, I'd start playing a little movie in my mind. I thought of all the trips we'd take, visiting each other. Thought of how we'd try to have sex constantly, but have stupid roommates, or work, or other people's bullshit getting in the way. 

I knew it would be like a black cloud hanging over every day at college, missing him. That wasn't what bothered me, though. What bothered me was when I let the movie keep playing after he left me and went back to his own college. I watched him go back, and I watched him be sad. I watched his dumb friends, that I barely got to meet, tell him to cheer up and go out and get lucky. And I watched him pick up some college slut and fuck her. In my mind, I saw her—whoever she turned out to be—fucking my guy. And I saw him smile.

And he was right. He should fuck her. He'd be happier that way. Because she would be there, and I wouldn't.

Love sometimes isn't enough. Love without sex will very quickly be trumped by sex without love, unless you're willing to be horny, unhappy, and alone. And I didn't want that for him, even if I was willing to put with it for myself.

But what was I going to do? Break up with him? Wait for him to break up with me? Enroll at State and dare him to turn me down?

It wasn't for another two weeks that Gabe and I really started to talk about it again. I told him I was going to do what he said, to go to Armstrong, but that I knew that it wasn't going to work out between us. I was ready for him to comfort me, to tell me I belonged to him, and that he'd never let me go. I could have lived off that reassurance, at least for a little while. It could be my comforting lie, to help me through it all.

And then he said the thing that killed me.

"Whatever happens, happens," he said in resignation. "Who knows the future?"

It's hard to describe how shitty I felt hearing that. I had to get away from him, and made up a stupid excuse to cut our conversation short. Then I got in the car and drove. And cried. Then stopped crying and washed my face in the restroom of a McDonald's, so I wouldn't look like a crazy person.

It wasn't my conscious mind that brought me to Andrew's house, but there must have been a part of me that was so angry at Gabe that I would do anything to make him see how much he would regret this.

The next part hurts too much still to write about in the kind of detail I normally give. The kiss—the one between Andrew and me—was passionate, fierce, but reckless. It wasn't about sex—I wasn't going to fuck Andrew at his parents' house just because I was pissed at Gabe. It was more a kind of emotional release. I guess you could say I wanted validation that someone else liked me, because it sure as hell felt like Gabe was ready to give up on me.

It's even hard to totally remember, since it was such an emotional blur. It happened outside; he came outside to talk, and I told him I was sorry for leading him on, and then I kissed him. And he kissed me back. And for a second it was nice, and I didn't feel so alone.

You might think I was overreacting to what Gabe said earlier, that he was just being realistic. You might say that kissing Andrew, who I knew liked me, just to prove I could, was something a cheating bitch would do. You might think it was shitty to Gabe and to Andrew, and shows just how selfish and immature I was. Hell, I'd probably agree with you.

But I did it because I was scared and desperate and sad. And I regretted it instantly. For the second time, I ended up fleeing back home from a guy and crying, only this time Andrew followed me. I mean, he liked me, and I kissed him. I guess he saw this as our chance or something. Only what he got for all the sweet things he had done for me, and all the time we spent together, was a black eye from Gabe when he showed up calling for me from the front lawn, bellowing about "what our kiss meant." And there was no way for him to know the real reason why that happened.

Andrew and Gabe argued on the front lawn while I watched out the window. I felt like human garbage. I felt so sorry for Andrew when he slinked back into his car. I listened with dread to Gabe's footsteps ascending the stairs, before his tall frame darkened the doorway.

"So that was you? You put that on him?"

I didn't say anything. Gabe glowered at me, and I found it hard to look him in the eyes.

"Don't try that shit," he spat. "That 'look how little and helpless I am' bullshit. That might work with somebody else, but I fucking know you."

Gabe was getting angrier and angrier. Then he started to get mean, letting out stuff that had obviously been inside for a long time.

"This whole thing was you—you always get what you want. I could be dating someone I can actually take out in public—but then my fucking sister sucks my cock. And this thing between us—it's out of my control. And then, it's like—shit—you fucking own me. You're all I think about, and I'm not myself anymore." 

"How do you think I feel?" I shouted, at least as loud as I could get. "Like, is this all just fun for you? Oh, here's Rose to suck my dick some more? Well, she's gone, let's find the next person—"

"That's funny," he interjected, "since I'm not the one coming home from somebody else's house. You suck his dick, too?" 

"Yeah," I lied, "wanna kiss me? His cum might still be on my lips."

Suddenly, Gabe powered down. For a moment, it was like he wasn't angry anymore. Then his words belied that idea.

"I guess you are a slut after all," he said mournfully. "You're gonna love college."

He slammed the door, and a minute later I heard him speed off into the night. I realized that I had fucked everything up and had no idea what to do.

Gabe didn't come home that night, and all I could think about was what he was doing. It's weird, the thing I most wanted him to do was the thing I had most wanted him to never do before: find some slut and sleep with her. I wanted him to do something so bad that he couldn't hold it against me for kissing his friend, and I wanted him to come home and punish me for being bad, then hold me in his arms and tell me that he forgives me and that he understands that I can't help being a worthless whore. I know how fucked that sounds, but the alternative was that he's pissed and doesn't talk to me anymore and I die of sadness.

Mom and Dad weren't happy about him just vanishing, but I wouldn't spill why he'd left and couldn't have told them where he'd gone if I'd wanted to. Obviously he didn't answer their calls; I was too ashamed of myself to text him.

The next day, Gabe came back, but he wouldn't tell me where he went. In fact, we didn't talk at all for three days, except in the fakest possible way in front of Dad. We went to school, did chores, the usual shit—except "we" were done, done with sex, done with hanging out, done with being a couple, or even friends.

That's when I realized that I missed my brother. I wanted to have everything, and now I had nothing. I was afraid it would always be like this, until something happened that showed me how I could make things right.

Natalie was over; she was the only person I could talk to about this stuff, as usual. I was telling her about how Gabe was just going to find some other girl immediately, when she stopped me.

"Are you kidding?" she asked, with genuine surprise. "Gabe is...destroyed right now."

"How do you know?" I asked, probably sounding bitchy. "Sorry. I mean, do you guys talk or something." 

Natalie got this weird guilty look on her face.

"Sometimes. I mean we went on a lot of fake dates. We got to know each other a little."

It was all too obvious. Part of me knew those dates weren't fake for Natalie. But after what I did, running to Andrew so quickly to try to make sense of what was happening with Gabe, I realized something. Maybe those dates weren't totally fake for him either.

"What did he say?"

It was obvious Natalie didn't want to betray his confidence, even though she was my best friend.

"He says...he says it hurt him a lot. He says you first got together after Sadie cheated on him, and now it's happening again. He...thinks maybe it's him."

Of course that made me feel terrible. 

"Does he hate me now?"

Natalie put her hands over her mouth nervously, as if she were subconsciously trying to stop herself from speaking. When she started talking again, it was a second before she realized what she was doing and took them back down.

"He loves you, but...look, this is just what I think, not what he said: he thinks you did it to get back at him, and he's...he's worried about being apart from you. Rose—you kinda made it clear he can't trust you."

That was hard to hear. In a way, I was surprised Natalie even had the, I don't know, balls to say it. I knew it was true, of course. But to hear it from her? Brutal.

"What do I do?" I asked her, hoping she'd have some untapped wisdom about this kind of thing. "I mean, I don't want to lose him forever."

"Go to him. It's been long enough. Tell him you're sorry. Tell him that you can't leave things like this. Then let him decide what happens next."

A super-mature, emotionally stable person with their shit together would have done that. For me, though, I knew I had to make it up to him somehow. Then it hit me: a big, stupid plan to make everybody happy.




My Master Down the Hall Ch. 05



"Nat, I want you to be 100% honest with me. I know you like Gabe—don't worry. How could you not, right? I get it."

Natalie, resistant to admitting it, just gave me a sheepish, "kinda."

"For you, babe, that's saying a lot. I want to do something for you, and for him. I want you guys to be together."

I don't think Natalie could have been more surprised if I'd have turned into a puff of smoke and vanished.

"Like, be together. Like, sex?" she asked me. "I don't know..."

I couldn't believe I was doing this.

"I do. Sex. It's what you want, right?"

I was proud of her for not clamming up. To her credit, she was honest.

"It would be cool to not be a virgin when I went to college. But I'm not in love with Gabe. Not like you."

"Good. You can want him without being full-on in love. I think he wants you too, even if he doesn't know it yet. I'm going to make this happen. And then, yeah, you won't go to college a virgin, and Gabe will...I mean, he's a guy. You're hot and he'll like it, as long as he knows I'm OK."

Once I said that last part, I just felt, instinctively, its truth. It mattered. He wouldn't do something without thinking of me. I just needed to show him that I wasn't just thinking of myself.

"What are you gonna do?" she asked. "I mean, are you gonna be there?"

I assumed that Natalie was scared and wanted me for support. I didn't think she'd fully thought through the menage a trois-y aspects of what she had just asked.

"I don't want to get in your way...we'll see," I replied.

Then I told Natalie that I needed time, but that she should go home and get ready: take a shower, shave down there, then do whatever she could to keep from going crazy with anticipation. I could tell she was nervous and excited at the same time.

It was another few hours before I could get Gabe alone. Our parents were at a town council meeting bitching about potholes that night, which was pretty fortunate: my first plan was to take them out to have "an important talk about college," code for a bullshit diversion. It was obviously fucked to have to think of ways to distract my parents so that Gabe could fuck my best friend; I know, it was a crazy plan. In my mind, though, it made perfect sense, and now with them out of the house, I thought it would work even better.

I just had to convince him that I wanted this, and that it didn't mean any of the shitty possible things it could mean, just the one good one. But when I entered his room, the look he gave me almost made me give up.

"What do you want?" he asked, not hostile, but certainly not inviting.

"I want to ask you about something."

"Then go ahead."

I decided not to dick around and instead to get straight to the point.

"Do you like Natalie? Like, in a want-to-see-her-naked way?"

"Is this your way of saying its my fault for blowing Andrew—"

"Gabe!" I exclaimed. "That didn't happen! It was just a kiss, that's all."

"But you said—"

"I was pissed. You were pretty much dumping me," I responded.

"That's not how it seemed to me."

I took a deep breath. This conversation was going off-track, but I couldn't steer it back just yet.

"Gabe, we both know this is real between us. I wouldn't have fucked up if you didn't hurt me, but I know I hurt you even worse. I'm going to stupid Armstrong. And I'm gonna visit you. But...well, maybe you were half-right and I was half-right. It would be crazy to turn this down. But...it's crazy to think we can do long-distance, too. It never works, ever. Like, in every movie ever, the characters are fucking other people and feeling terrible, hurting each other. That just...it just can't be us."

Gabe let what I was saying wash over him.

"So what do we do?"

Bingo—back on track.

"You've got to fuck somebody else."

I won't lie, I dropped that one him atom-bomb style just to see his reaction. He looks so hot when I manage to surprise him.

"You've got to kidding me."

"No, look," I said, "we're going to be apart. And I can either worry myself to death you're with some slut, or I...can tell you to have fun and have sex...and don't, you know, forget about me. That I'll be here for you on the other side, somehow, some way, because I'm still your sister, and you can't get rid of me so easy."

For the first time in a while, he laughed.

"So what does this have to do with me being with someone else now?"

I loved how much dirtier my mouth was than his.

"I need to be OK with this now, when I still have you to help me—to make me feel better. You know, loved. And I've got the right person—"

"Natalie," he said. "You're going to make her fantasy come true."

"Exactly," I said. "I feel safer starting with her, because at least I know she's leaving too. It's not like she gets to keep you after I'm gone."

Gabe reached out to give me a hug. I felt weeks worth of stress just melt away, and once again, I was where I belonged.

"It's funny," he said thoughtfully, "I never thought you were interested in doing things with girls."

I almost jumped out of his arms.

"What?"

"I mean, this threesome thing," he said, not realizing I hadn't been quite clued in to Natalie's fantasies. "We talked about it some times, how she felt about you. I sometimes thought she liked me because of how close we were, like she wanted to be cream in our Oreo, you know."

Gabe's lovely little metaphor made me imagine what it would be like for me to not only be present when she lost her virginity to Gabe, but to actively participate in it. It really wasn't something I had thought about before; what can I say, I'm hooked on cock.

"Gabe?" I said, putting on my best pout. "Would you like me to play with Natalie for you? I'll do whatever you want to her."

We both knew without saying it what was going on: I needed Gabe to order me to do anything sexual with Natalie. I would have felt way too weird without feeling the release of having his commands to guide me. If Natalie really felt that way about me, then it might be good for her to have her first time with a girl and guy. I even wondered if she got off on having siblings (and step-siblings count!).

"If you're going to belong to me tonight," he promised, "then you're going to belong to her, too. You're serving us."

The thought of not only watching Natalie get fucked, but having her participate in dominating me was exhilarating, confusing, and scary. This was either going to open up a whole new kind of slutty craziness for me, or be an epic fuck-up.

For almost two whole hours I had to wait for our parents to leave. My mom, seeing me happy again, paused on her way out and beckoned me over.

"I'm glad you two worked it out, however you did. We'll be gone till ten—I think I'm going to surprise Emmett with dinner afterwards."

I hugged my mom, almost in tears—seriously, what other mother would clear out of the house to let her daughter have sex, let alone with her step-brother. (That looks a little crazy writing it down!)

Natalie got her ass over here in record time, and she looked like a cum slut in training, which I mean in literally the nicest way possible. Our make-over had really taken, and she had her long, shiny brown hair straightened, and a tight, black-and-white stripe top that made her tits look enormous. I envied how tall she looked on three inch heels—next to me, she looked like a sexy giant.

"Hi...umm...Rose," Natalie said sheepishly.

It was obvious she was super nervous, but a little excited, too. I wanted Gabe to orchestrate things, and he didn't disappoint.

"Hi Natalie," he said, as if he did this kind of thing all the time. "You don't mind if Rose joins us tonight, do you?"

He had this Cheshire cat smile that let me know, immediately, that everything was going to be just fine. This was going to be fun.

Natalie looked at me searchingly. I saw something that I must have missed in her for a long time.

"Are you...is that OK?"

"It's better than OK," I said, wanting to help her confidence. "This is going to be the best night of our lives."

Natalie's face lit up. She was like a different person when she smiled, and I could see how beautiful she really was, her eyes sparkling with joy and desire.

It's weird: She was obviously hot. I could, at least in my head, imagine it feeling good to have her go down on me. I wasn't even squicked out about doing it to her, either. The problem was, I couldn't really get, you know, hot for her. Girls just don't give me that feeling. So I'm thinking: do this for Gabe, do this for Natalie, it's about making them feel good, not me.

Maybe you can guess what's going to happen: that's what got me hot. This was not about me, it was about pleasing, serving someone else, focusing on their needs. Because Natalie was a girl, anything we did together was, for me at least, about her and not me. But I got off—get off—on being the source of pleasure for other people. That's what I like. At that point, it had always been exclusively for Gabe, of course, and this situation was really not a huge exception, since this was a threesome for him. But it wasn't only about him, at least not anymore.

"Natalie and I are going to have some alone time for a minute, Tinkerbell," he said.

I noticed Natalie smile when she heard Gabe's nickname for me.

"We need to talk about a few things," he continued. "And you're not allowed to ask us about them. While we're gone, I want you to get comfortable."

I knew what he meant: I needed to get out of my around-the-house clothes and into something hot. I scampered upstairs to pick something out to wear. Once i was out of my regular stuff, I slipped on a lacy matching thong and bra set that I knew Gabe loved, and a cute turquoise sheer babydoll I got at the mall that Gabe hadn't seen yet. 

I started to think about the differences between what guys think looks hot and what a girl might think. It wasn't something I'd had to consider before. Would Natalie want me to wear something slutty, or something...I don't know, cute? I looked myself over in the mirror. I had this sudden pang, a hope/fear about whether I would disappoint her. This whole situation was getting super weird, but not totally in a bad way.

They were gone for almost fifteen minutes, time enough for me to wonder madly about what was happening in his room. Finally, I heard Gabe's deep voice, calling from inside the door.

"We're missing one slut in here."

I made my way to the door, and slowly turned it, almost wanting, even after the wait, to draw this experience out just a little longer.

I half expected to find Natalie already face down on Gabe's crotch, but she and Gabe were sitting side by side on the bed, as if nothing was going on. I could see her taking in my new look, drinking me in, and it felt good. It was clear she liked what she saw.

She leaned over and whispered into Gabe's ear and he smiled. He whispered back, and she giggled. I guess I hadn't appreciated how close they had gotten during our whole "fake dating" period.

"Rose," Gabe said confidently, "we didn't feel like getting undressed. Why don't you do that for us."

I started to walk over towards them, but Gabe held his hand up.

"I think you know better than that."

I knew what he wanted me to do, but I also knew it was going to be weird doing it in front of someone else. Here goes nothing... I thought, getting down on all fours to crawl over to them. I kept my eyes down like I was supposed to, so I couldn't see Natalie's reaction. Once I got to my spot between and beneath them, Gabe put his hand under my chin and raised my eyes to meet hers. She was glowing.

I started with her, sliding my hands across her thighs until I reached the waistband of her skirt. Hooking my fingers along the sides, I started to slowly tug. Natalie scooted up and down to help me get the skirt uncaught, and once it was free, it was simply a matter of sliding it down her creamy thighs. Seeing her bare legs, I realized how much I envied women with fuller figures. I felt like a little girl in the presence of a woman, even though we were the same age and I had so much more sexual experience.

I unfastened her heels and slid them off, kissing the tops of her feet and up her legs to her thighs. I could feel her shudder when my lips made contact with her smooth, delicate skin. Then I repeated my task, except this time, I took her red cotton panties down, to reveal her bare pussy, her skin noticeably darker than mine. 

Then I moved over to Gabe, unfastening his belt and tugging at his pants. I was rarely so slow and seductive--as you guys already know, I'm more of a pull-out-his-cock-and-beg-to-suck-it kind of girl, and this teasing stuff is not in my nature. I went as slow as possible, because I wanted Natalie to enjoy watching me and enjoy seeing her first real cock.

"I think we can handle it from here," Gabe said.

I would have had to get up from the floor to take off their tops, and I had a feeling he was happy with me on my knees.

"What do you need to tell us, Tinkerbell?"

This was classic Gabe. It was never just some kind of mechanical thing with him. He didn't just want my body—it was about my heart and soul, too. And I was doing this to make things right between us and to finally pay back Natalie, who'd always been there for me, evidently secretly wanting this, never demanding anything in return.

"Thank you," I said breathlessly. "Thank you for letting me be a part of this. I...I just want to make you both happy."

I looked up at Natalie.

"Nat, I love you so much. Gabe's always going to be my number one," I said, smiling up at him as I felt tears form in the corner of my eyes, "but you—you look so beautiful right now. I hope I can be everything you wanted."

"Kiss me, please," she blurted out.

I'm sure she expected me to come up to the bed and kiss her on the lips—the, ummm, face lips—but I knew I wasn't allowed to, not yet. I went straight for her "other lips." Of course, this was another first for me, and I'm sure I could have done a better job. Maybe I just wanted to shock her, to totally break the ice, so we wouldn't have to be nervously waiting for this to happen.

It was the first time I tasted a girl other than myself. I reached my hands around behind her feeling her round, fleshy ass. I liked that she wasn't so skinny like me, and I could imagine why guys might like a nice, big butt. (Pretty much any ass would look like J.Lo's next to mine of course). I felt her hands running through my hair, something I always liked.

"Rosie, I think she wanted to start a little slower," Gabe said playfully.

I pulled my head out long enough to look at him, but Natalie, in between heaving breaths, had her own opinions.

"Don't tell her to stop!" she sighed. "That was incredible."

"Lesson number one:" Gabe said, "never get in a rush. You get this crazy energy and you want to do it all at once. We all get it. But the longer you draw it out, the better it is."

Natalie soaked in Gabe's lessons. Here I thought I was going to be the teacher tonight.

"Remember what I said," he continued. "Things aren't usually going to be like this. Rosie's really special. She's the perfect girl for you to learn from, but you need to tell her what to do all the same."

With that, Gabe touched his finger to my lips. I parted them to let his finger slip inside and sucked his finger like a mini-cock. I actually liked hearing them talk about me like I was going to be their little toy. And I loved being called "special."

"I want to see her naked," Natalie said to Gabe, as if she needed his permission.

"Then tell her. The more firm you are, and the more...specific you are, the more she'll like it," he replied. "Give it a try—and don't be afraid to get a little dirty."

Natalie looked down at me, and we locked eyes.

"I want...I want to see your...tits," she said, still too nervous to really do what Gabe was telling her to do. "Take everything off for me."

I was only too happy to comply. I wanted to join the naked party. I slowly stripped off the silky babydoll above my head and reached behind my back to unfasten the tiny bra. It felt strange, hoping that my small tits would please Natalie. I pushed them together some, teasing my nipples.

"Do you want to touch them?" I asked. "I'd like that." 

Natalie reached out to trace her fingers over my tiny tits. My nipples began to respond, and her face was in this open-mouthed, lustful gaze.

"Come up on the bed," Gabe commanded. "She wants you."

I finally left the floor and got on my back. Natalie let her hands roam over my body, caressing my hips and stomach. My eyes locked onto Gabe's when she brought her warm, wet tongue to my nipple, now electric with sensation. He stripped off his shirt, and Natalie paused to do the same.

While Natalie explored my body, I watched Gabe's thick cock grow hard. I wanted to ask him to touch it, to stroke it, but I kept quiet, except of course, for all the little moans and squeals that Natalie was bringing out of me. I could tell from the reverent way she touched me that she had dreamt of a moment like this for a long time. True to Gabe's advice, she took things slow, enjoying every moment. For a first timer at pretty much anything, she was doing great. If I were her teacher and not her fuck toy, I'd have told her that.

"Natalie, Rosie's just dying to get her mouth on my cock. Do you think you'd like to see that?"

Natalie looked up from sucking on my tits to enthusiastically agree to Gabe's suggestion. Gabe positioned himself in the middle of his queen-sized bed, and spread his legs to let me get between them. This wasn't my favorite way to give a blowjob—that would be him standing, me on an pillow on the floor—but it was what he wanted now. 

I went into my "zone" as soon as I got his beautiful dick in my mouth, where it belonged. Assuming she was bi- and not actually a lesbian, this was where I could put on a clinic. I should have a Ph.D in fellatiology.

"Pay attention," Gabe told her. "Rose is pretty much the best cocksucker of all time. You learn to do half the stuff she can do, and you can get a guy to do pretty much anything for you."

I'm a sucker for compliments, especially dirty ones. I decided that my perverted goal was going to be to ruin his lessons by making him feel too good to talk. If Natalie was going to learn how to go down on a guy, she needed to sit back and watch.

I started feathering little kisses and licks across his shaft, occasionally letting my tongue drift down to coat his balls. Then, without warning, I'd take him as deep as I could, causing my stomach to almost turn. This was the most important step, because it's what brought up the thick, good spit. A good blowjob is a messy blowjob, and when I suck your cock, you need to wash the sheets afterwards.

"See what—oh fuck—watch how—god—you're doing that on purpose—"

Even though I was already a little dick drunk and focused on making sure Gabe lost all grasp of English grammar, I could tell that Natalie wasn't taking notes on sucking cock: she was watching me, not just my mouth. I was making her horny, not providing a strong role model for future pole smoking. I felt her hands all over me, spreading my ass apart and running her fingers over my soaked pussy. Any shyness she had was gone by now.

The combination of Gabe's relentless cock and Natalie's inquisitive fingers was pushing me over the edge. Gabe couldn't tell what was going on, but Natalie was a girl, and knew how things worked: one thing I was sure she could do was get a girl off with her fingers.

I could hear her exclaim "Oh my god!" when I came on her fingers, as if she was crying out on my behalf, since my mouth was too full of dick to make anything more than unintelligible gurgles. I slowed down a little on cramming Gabe's cock down my throat while I recovered from my orgasm, enough to allow him to connect the wires in his brain and actually say something.




My Master Down the Hall Ch. 05



"You should taste it," he said to Natalie. "You're gonna love this."

I couldn't see Natalie lick her fingers: I couldn't see much of anything except for the dark thatch of public hair and the bottom of Gabe's firm, muscled stomach, up and down as I bobbed on him. But I could hear her reaction.

"It's like sweet and sour at the same time," she said. "It's so good."

Gabe smiled.

"I know, right?"

Gabe was taking a really long time to cum today—I started to wonder if he'd already cum that day when I felt the familiar tightening sensation in his balls. I had my answer when he absolutely flooded my mouth with warm, salty cum. I had a lot of practice not swallowing at times like this, holding it in until Gabe told me what he wanted. Natalie even broke off exploring my body to see what was happening.

"Show Natalie your reward," Gabe said, obviously still recovering himself.

I turned towards her and tilted my head back, afraid of spilling a drop. She looked utterly fascinated by what was taking place in front of her.

"Is it gross?" she asked, as if I could answer right now.

Gabe laughed.

"I'm hurt," he said, pretending to be offended.

"Sorry, it's just—holy crap that's a lot."

I felt a weird kind of pride showing Natalie the huge mouthful of cum I was holding onto.

"Show her what you can do," Gabe said, and I swallowed the whole load while she looked on.

"So what do you think?" Gabe asked Natalie.

"I don't think I could do any of that," she said, now with a big, goofy grin on her face. "But I loved watching it!"

"How did it feel to make her cum?"

"Incredible," Natalie replied, before addressing me. "Did you...I mean, was it good for you?"

I didn't hesitate.

"It was awesome. You might have noticed I like being the center of attention," I told her.

"Can I kiss you?" she asked.

"She'd like it better if you told her to kiss you," Gabe added.

"No," I said. "You did it just right."

Strangely, Natalie seemed more shy about kissing me than having me lick her pussy or fingering me. We started slowly, tentatively, before she started probing my mouth with her tongue. I sucked softly on her tongue, and she trembled. She held me close, caressing my sides.

"I can still taste...ummm...him," she said. "I kinda like it."

"There might be hope for you, yet," I giggled. "What's next?"

Both of us looked to Gabe. It came as no surprise that we'd both default to looking for his instructions. He just had that kind of thing naturally.

"I think it's time you pay back Natalie," he said. "I can give you guys some privacy—"

"Stay!" we both said at once, before breaking out into giggles.

Gabe didn't need too much persuasion. Natalie lay back where Gabe had just been, and I resumed my normal position, nestled between her legs, ready for round two of oral sex.

"C'mon Tinkerbell," Gabe said jokingly, "it's different for girls. Don't just dive straight into the kitty."

I slid upwards, my small body stretched out across Natalie's. It's weird: I'm a girl, and you'd think I would know what girls like. Only, what I like is to be touched by a man—one in particular. If what Natalie wanted was me, then I decided that I should just go for what I wanted to do and not overthink it. For me, that meant one thing, the main thing about girls that I was kind of fascinated with, since I didn't have it: Natalie's soft, jiggly tits.

I began kissing her neck before nibbling at the bottom of her earlobe. Every so often our eyes would meet, and I could see how much she wanted this. I just wanted to make her come now.

I pressed her tits together and began softly licking across them, not locking onto just her nipples, but treasuring every inch of them. They were like soft, squishy pillows. She was obviously pretty sensitive there, more than I was, I think.

I got her squirming beneath me, and it was obvious I had her right where I wanted her. I started to kiss down her stomach, my fingers dancing across the slit all the way. Once my mouth down there, I was tired of taking it slow again. I started to lick, long, broad licks as far south as I could go. I mean, I was willing to take the chance that her pussy wasn't the only thing my tongue was going to touch. I didn't want to hold back.

Natalie was obviously responding; her wiggling was making it hard to stay "on target"; I wanted to hold her down and just tongue fuck her until she exploded, but I'm tiny, so that's out of the question. Then, the moaning sounds stopped, and I could hear the wet sounds of kissing. I peaked up and saw Gabe making out with her, his hands stroking her nipples and pinching them lightly. One hand was wrapped around his face, while the other was headed right for me. She clamped down on my head, pulling my hair a little as she guided me back to her pussy. 

I was glad I'd told her to shave it: she was smooth and really nice down there, and it made it easier to get to all the right spots. It was starting to get fun for me; I mean, there's a kind of control that comes from getting someone off, and that's no different for girls or guys. I'd mostly avoided going full-on clit crazy at first, knowing how for me that kind of thing can get overwhelming unless I'm ready to come. Once I started in, with little licks in a circle around the very top of her clit, Natalie started to make noises, muffled of course, that sounded like I was doing something very right.

"Make her cum, Rosie," Gabe said in a low growl. "Do it."

I did. She did. She didn't "squirt," but I definitely tasted a flow of juices into my mouth. Without Gabe's lips locked on hers, Natalie could cry out. She didn't scream my name, or say "yes" or "fuck" or anything like that. She just called out "baby" over and over again, like I was her girlfriend. She wasn't like Gabe. She was never going to call somebody a "slut" and order them to eat her out. She wasn't a sub either, though. She was a romantic. I truly believe that if I would have asked her to prom, she would've been my date.

I learned after this that, if I was a cock-crazy girl who could get down with playing with girls, then she was a girl-crazy, awesome, sweet, adorable bi-sexual chick who liked playing with guys on the side. I literally never thought about this before, even though we were best friends. She was always so buttoned up. We're still in touch to this day of course. Natalie's at Sarah Lawrence, she's totally in lerv with this chick Sabrina, and she even managed to find a girl who doesn't mind a good, hard dick every now and then, so long as they share it. I'm going to go ahead and take a little credit for that.

We took a little break. Everyone had gotten off once, but the main event was ostensibly still to come. Keep in mind, I still didn't 100% know that, in fact, I was the main event—that was when she actually lost her virginity, in the way that counted for her. For me dick was everything, for her—not so much.

While I was in the dark, Gabe seemed to get it. He asked me to leave again for a second and get us all some drinks. I could tell he wanted to talk things over with Natalie before going any further, and I wondered if they'd planned this before.

When I came back, Natalie and Gabe were chatting like old friends, seemingly oblivious to being totally naked. I threw off the gym shorts and tank top I'd worn to go downstairs (just in case there were any surprises!).

"Natalie liked watching you suck cock. Get my dick wet so I can pop her cherry, sweetie."

There it was: the command voice. Normally, I would get him hard and wet to fuck me. This was the moment of truth: I was going to watch him fuck someone else for the first time.

I reached for a pillow to toss on the ground, but Gabe gently grabbed my wrist.

"Do you want to see what it looks like when she goes into 'slave-mode'?" he asked Natalie. "It's her favorite thing."

She looked down at me. I assumed he'd briefed her about this kind of stuff before. She knew some things from me, too.

"I don't want to get between you two," she said.

"It's OK," I told her. "This is what I'm supposed to do."

I'm not sure if she could ever understand what I was talking about, not that it was going to stop things. Calling it "slave-mode" was new, though.

Gabe started giving his commands, all which I obeyed without question of hesitation.

"Lie down on your stomach on the bed. Good. Hold your ankles like I like."

This was the position that made it easiest for me to deepthroat Gabe—and easiest for him to spank my ass.

"Now beg for my cock."

"Please let me have it."

"What are you going to do with it?"

"I'm going to su—"

"Why?" he said sharply.

"Because it makes you feel—"

"Wrong," he barked. "Why?"

I took me a moment to realize the right answer.

"So that it's hard and wet for Natalie."

"That's right," he said. "Don't you want to thank her for letting you be here?"

Both of us knew that she desperately wanted me there. I was the main attraction. That wasn't the point, though. He was bringing me to the place inside me where I dealt with all my insecurities and feelings of inferiority. I had to go into that submissive place that I longed for.

"Thank you Natalie," I said sincerely. "Thank you for letting me kiss you and touch you. Thank you for touching me and making me feel good. Thank you for everything."

Natalie sat down beside me, stroking my back and running her hand across my ass.

"You're so beautiful," she said, over and over. She was getting emotional seeing me like this, seeing what I was really like.

"Natalie, do you think you can show Rose how much you like that ass?" Gabe asked. "It's what she wants."

Then I felt it: softer than Gabe, but way, way harder than I thought Natalie was capable of. My best friend was spanking my ass, while my...well, my everything encouraged her.

"Tell Natalie what you are Tinkerbell," Gabe said. "And tell her why, too."

Gabe was making me wait for his cock for a long time. I stared straight at it, just inches from my mouth, as I replied.

"I'm a slut," I said. "I'll do anything for Gabe's cock. I want his cum more than anything else. He thought I was just a little prissy nobody, and I made him see me differently. And I made him give me his cum, and I made him take my virginity, and I even made him put it in my butt. Because he had to want me. That's why."

Gabe slipped his cock into my mouth, and I felt such emotional release. This time, I had no pretense about dictating things. Gabe sawed his meaty cock in and out of my mouth, dragging it across my cherry-red lips.

"Nat," he said, that domineering, firm steel in his voice more apparent than ever. "I'm going to fuck you in a second. Do you need Rosie to get you wet?"

"No," was all she said, her voice almost cracking. "Believe me, this is enough."

I could have blown him all night, but it wasn't what he wanted. It wasn't supposed to happen.

"It's time," he said. "Lay back, Nat, and spread your legs."

I was frozen to the spot for a moment, before I realized I needed to move. She got in position, and I nestled in beside her. I wanted to be close, and she seemed to want it too. Gabe got between her legs and lined his cock up. I knew this might hurt her, but she was horny enough by now and ready for it. She winced as he entered her for the first time, but it wasn't bad. Her rolled towards mine, and I leaned in to kiss her, whispering to her to relax and let go.

Gabe fucked her slowly, letting her adjust to the new sensation of a cock invading her most sensitive parts. I touched her, gently, making her focus on me and not him, at least until she was ready, when the pain turned to pure pleasure. Gabe was, well, Gabe; he did it right. I saw her wrap her legs around him, and he began, slowly but surely, to pick up the pace.

"Kiss me now," she commanded.

So she did have it in her, at least a little. I kissed her, and our tongues met. Above us, Gabe thrust into her, shaking her body. I watched her tits jiggle, which I can admit to absolutely loving. I get why guys love those things. I was jealous of hers, too, but that wasn't getting in the way of me enjoying this experience, something I would have thought impossible not long before.

"You should try it on top," Gabe said.

We rearranged, and I wasn't sure where to go. Natalie was straddling Gabe, slowly lowering herself down onto his cock.

"Don't move much," he told her. "Just stay in place, sitting up a little."

Gabe's choreography was slowing the proceedings down, which might have been a good idea.

"Get beside us," he ordered me. "Yeah, like that. Now stroke her down there."

Gabe told me later that he could tell Natalie needed someone to touch her clit—preferably me—if she was going to come as hard as she could. I sandwiched my hand between their pelvises, my fingers across her clit.

"Tell her when to move and when to stay still and ride me how you want," he told Natalie.

She started grinding, not so much rising and falling on his cock as rotating her hips and keeping him in deep. With my fingers running across her clit with every hint of motion, she didn't need to bounce up and down like a porn star. She knew exactly how to get herself off.

"Touch me," she said. "Grab my chest."

It was cute to see how chaste her vocabulary was under the circumstances. With my free hand, I cupped her boob, squeezing it. God it felt nice.

"Rub it more," she begged.

"Call it by name—"

"Shut up!" Natalie said, interrupting Gabe and making the two of us crack a huge smile. "You're doing it—oh, god."

I was doing it right. She was dripping onto my hand. She might have been more into girls than guys, but it was clear that with a little female teamwork, it wasn't hard to get her to cream on the end of a big, fat dick. Gabe's was better than most for that.

The time for talking was over; my fingers and Gabe's cock were working their magic. Natalie began to come, and it seemed like she might never stop. I was afraid she might start to feel too sensitive, like I did from clitoral stimulation, but I didn't want to pull away until she told me to. And she didn't. She had this massive, never-ending orgasm. I mean, in clock time it might have been a minute. In psychological-sex time, it was roughly the length of the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy. I'd never felt anything like it, and I was way more jealous of that than I was of Natalie's body. That orgasm was freaking awesome.

When she finally stopped coming, I was mildly surprised that Gabe had been able to avoid his own climax. I took my hand out, covered in Natalie's juices, and waited until she was looking me right in the eye before I slowly licked my fingers clean. Her eyes were saucer-wide, but I don't think she could have strung together a coherent sentence at that point. She kind of collapsed against Gabe, virtually motionless. Their faces were so close, it was only natural that they'd kiss. I wished I could sandwich myself in there, though.

"How was it?" he asked her.

"So good," she said. "It only hurt for, like, a minute."

"Do you want to stop?"

"You didn't...I mean, I didn't feel you, you know..."

"This was about you," he said. "I don't have to—"

"I want to see it," she said impulsively. "I want to see what it looks like."

"Where?" I asked, butting into their conversation. "I mean, Nat, guys like it when you tell them where you want them to aim."

Gabe laughed.

"Are we that predictable?"

Natalie climbed off Gabe. His cock was hard and slick with her juices, but the pause had backed him off. He'd need a little love and affection before he was going to come anywhere.

"I want you to do it—on me. I just want to feel it. To see what it's like," she said.

Gabe stood up and kind of winked at me. I sat beside Natalie on the edge of the bed, while Gabe stood in front of us, his big cock protruding out towards us. I took him into my mouth, slurping him loudly, before passing him to Natalie.

"Don't worry about technique," I told her, finally getting to play the mentor role I'd thought would happen. "Just play with it in your mouth some." 

She licked around Gabe's cock and took the head into her mouth. She didn't seem freaked out or anything, though she also wasn't going to start choking herself with it any time soon.

After a while, she passed his cock back to me. It struck me as funny that now things were about me and her and this cock, not Gabe the person. He was quiet, satisfied to let us enjoy touching, stroking, sucking, and licking him. He didn't even need to announce when he was on the verge of ejaculating. I could sense it from hard-earned experience. 

"Where Natalie?" I asked, as I jerked Gabe's cock. "It's time."

"Fuck," Gabe groaned, as Natalie opened her mouth to speak: "Just aim it at you, please."

Things were kind of a blur, and I didn't have time to aim it down. Even though he had already come once, Gabe was still able to totally paste me. It was all over my face. For some reason, it didn't bother me like normal. I mean, I still greatly prefer swallowing, but it was OK, at least. She got to see it this way.

Natalie didn't even bother asking me—she pulled me in close, and started lapping up Gabe's sperm off my face. I guess she did want to taste it after all, or at least wanted a good excuse to make out with me some more (like she needed one). I realized that a facial is a lot more fun when there's someone to clean you off.

"Can't I get a little of that treatment?" Gabe asked with a laugh.

Our tongues entwined around his dick. It was cool, and I kind of wished we'd have gone the double beej route earlier. Once he was good and clean, we all kind of collapsed together, naked, sweaty, and exhausted.

"So how was your first time?" he asked her. "I mean, a lot of firsts, right?" 

"Perfect," she said.

It was like her whole voice had changed. She was my Natalie again, soft-spoken, reserved, too sweet for words. We were all back to our normal selves. Now I just hoped that this had worked.

Mom and Dad were eventually going to come home. As much as it would have been nice to lie around naked together, Natalie had to get home. I gave them some space, so they could talk again. It was strange to see them have a kind of relationship that I wasn't totally a part of, though I suspected they kind of bonded over me in a way anyway. Natalie gave me a huge hug before she left.

"Rose, I know—hey, I love you. Friend-love you. Thanks for this," she said.

"I love you, too. You're gonna drive some girls crazy this fall. Guys too."

She paused. Pretty much every other day in her life, she would have told me I was nuts, nobody would like her, blah blah blah. Only, this time she smiled.

"You're right," she said. "How crazy is that?"

We hugged again, and she left.

"She gets it," Gabe said from behind me, startling me a little. "She never thought you were going to fall in love with her. But I think you might have just made a lot of fantasies come true for her." 

"What about you?" I asked. "Was it how you thought it would be?"

He thought for a moment.

"It was cool, but...that wasn't really about me. Or for me. Maybe I'm a one-on-one kind of guy." 

"I'm sorry, you know. About everything. About getting you into this whole thing. I mean, I don't regret it, but I'm sorry." 

"Don't be," he replied. "I was being an asshole because I was pissed at you. I love you. And it sucks to know you're gonna go away. But this? This isn't the end." 

"I mean, it kinda is, though. It's the end of something, even if it isn't the end of everything, you know?"

"Yeah," he said pensively. "We're not going to be boyfriend and girlfriend. Not the way we were. But no one can really take your place. No one else is you. Never will be. So we go on different paths for a while—we'll never go so far away that we won't find each other again. And anybody else along the way is just there for the ride. This is our story."




My Master Down the Hall Ch. 05



And that was it. We graduated. That summer, Gabe had to spend time with his family on his mom's side, a lot. When he wasn't with them, we were together, even though it always felt different after that day. Like I said, Natalie and I are still friends, even though that's different too. I wished I could have made things right with Andrew, but after graduation and what happened with Gabe, we drifted apart. C'est la vie and all.

Maybe one day I'll tell you about college, though that story would go in a very different kind of direction. I'm in sophomore spring now, and pretty soon I'll visit home, just like him. We'll talk, and fuck, and laugh, and remember this stuff. He's been with other girls, and I've been with other guys, but I know that, like he said, they're just along for the ride. They're passengers.

Will we end up together? I have to believe so, just like I have to believe that everything turned out this way for a reason. This chapter may be the last chapter of the beginning, but I know in my heart that it's not really the end.