I hadn’t imagined before that going on a road trip with Adrian would be so much fun. His car was a beat-up pre-owned that had no working AC, but for me, at that moment, seemed like the best means of transportation in the entire world. To my surprise, Adrian was a responsible driver, careful on the road and serious. I loved watching him, admiring his profile, as his hands lay on the wheel and his eyes took in the road signs or stole a glance at the navigation system installed on the dashboard, the only new thing in the entire car.
“Stop watching me, you freak,” he said, but his smile told me he loved the attention.
“When did you learn to drive?”
“I got my license at sixteen,” he said, “but I only drove my mom’s car before this one. Feels good to be the owner.”
I could tell he was enjoying himself behind the wheel. The road stretched before us, desert dry, although the weather had gotten gradually greyer and greyer since we left campus.
“I want to kiss you,” he said in a giddy voice, pulling me out of my musings.
“Not while you drive, I hope.”
“Come on,” he said, “there’s no other car in like ten miles.”
Enough of being serious, I guess.
And he was right about us being alone on the road. I looked back and no one was coming from behind, either. Slowly, I wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, massaging it gently. His skin was so warm and alive underneath my fingers. My life had been so cut in stone before he entered it like a storm.
“Are you going to kiss me already?” Adrian teased me, throwing me a glance that promised me the world.
I shifted in my seat as much as my safety belt allowed it and leaned over. First, my lips pressed against his cheek slowly. I followed the contour of his jawline, taking pleasure in mapping him out inside my mind by means of kissing him alone. With a hand resting against his collarbone, I angled my head to reach the back of his ear. A shudder coursed through Adrian’s body, which made me believe that I found what tickled him. I insisted with my tongue, moving slower to the side of his neck.
Adrian made a small soft noise, deep in his throat. “How can you kiss like this and still be such an asshole, Jo?”
“I’m only an asshole because you want me to be one,” I countered.
He scoffed, as if I was saying the darnedest thing. “You could be nice.”
“I could, but then you’d get bored with me, and I can’t have that. I want you to never get tired or bored of me.”
The smile quirking his lips let me know that I was actually on the right path. “So, you want to like please me or something?”
“I want you to never get enough of me.”
“Sounds like torture.”
“It is,” I confirmed.
An idea crossed my mind. Cautiously, I snapped open my safety belt and bent over him. I pressed my cheek against his crotch, overwhelmed by how close he was.
“Damn, choir boy,” he teased me. “You are such a freak. Do you want to suck my cock?” Adrian’s voice had grown heated and full with meaning. “You do have to pay for your fare, after all. Is this how you usually get around?”
“I’ve never gotten around before you,” I replied honestly and lifted my head just enough so I could fiddle with his zipper.
His cock was hard and warm in my hand, its skin smooth like silk. I took my time playing with my tongue around the head, chasing the small bead of precum that was already there. To think I could get him so hard and ready with just a little kissing. I wanted to worship him from head to toe, but I worried I might scare him and didn’t want that.
“Just stuff your mouth with it,” Adrian ordered and pushed my head down abruptly.
If he wanted revenge for how I fucked his mouth earlier, this was one way to go about it. And I didn’t mind it at all. His actions spoke louder than words. I could tell he was enjoying the hell out of forcing me to take him deep. Although I had no actual experience besides what I’d experienced with him so far, I was a quick study. Often in my life, I had willed myself into accepting and dealing with many things, none even half as pleasant as blowing my sexy stepbrother.
I could tell my eyes were rolling in my head from the pleasure I was experiencing just by having my mouth and throat used. The pressure, the sensation of choking on Adrian’s cock, those should have been hard enough on me, but I welcomed them.
And the sounds I was making… I hoped they were enough to give him all the satisfaction he wanted and deserved.
“You’re a whore for my cock, aren’t you, Jo? You want my cum in your mouth, you want to swallow it, you little slut.”
I have no idea what part of me he considered little, so I chalked it all up to him trying to use at least an endearing word to define me in relationship with him. With my fingers, I pulled at his jeans, eager to get his balls out, too. To help me, he pushed himself up a smidge and soon he had his pants down to his ankles, along with his underwear. Now I had free rein over his cock and balls. Grateful for the offer, I began playing with his balls, too, letting my fingers sneak lower. The saliva poured from my mouth and wet my fingers. I pushed them between his butt cheeks, knowing I couldn’t get much in that position but I still wanted to touch the hottest spot of him, the place where I hoped to push my cock in one day.
Yeah, I was quick to realize that I wanted that. Had he ever done that? Had he ever let anyone fuck him in the ass? He had mentioned getting on his knees for guys, but anal sex was a whole different kettle of fish.
I stopped as I felt his hand sneaking inside my pants at the back. He didn’t have a lot of space to move there, but he made do nonetheless. No piece of news. Apparently, Adrian had a few thoughts of his own about fingering me and making me his bitch.
Crude words popped in my mind as I sucked him off with everything I had. They only served the purpose of taming the fire now burning bright inside my chest. If I started thinking crazy thoughts, that I was in love with him and couldn’t see myself leaving him ever, I was bound to lose my mind.
You see, I wasn’t used at all with the idea of loving someone. Or being loved back. My father’s affection could hardly be called that, and at most, I was an obligation and a nuisance for him, nothing else. As for the church, which he had me attend with so much fervor, all I’d found there were lies. I had my own opinions about religion, mainly that a good man who once lived and did good things had been used for centuries by those who found a way to yield his name like power, with no Christian feelings inside their hearts and minds.
With Adrian, I was finding my new and true calling. In my grey world, he was that one spot of color that made living worth it. I hadn’t thought myself as a victim, don’t get me wrong. But I was used enough to being my apathetic self that it had become my true nature.
Adrian’s fingers struggled to get inside my crack. I could feel them working me hard, as hard as they could, seeing the limitations present, and I wanted to make it better. So, without removing my mouth from my stepbrother’s cock for a moment, I unbuttoned my pants and pushed them down.
“Do you want this?” Adrian asked, his voice amused.
I hummed an answer and went deeper on his cock. He wet his fingers – I knew that had to be after the sounds he was making – and then he was back at exploring my crack.
“Are you going to cry when I fuck you?” he asked. “Are you going to beg me to stop?”
Not in a million years. Even if it hurt, I would take it, because I wanted him so much it hurt already. Also, I had been hardened by the teachings threatening me with eternal fire, so, in comparison… not, not even in comparison, he was promising me heaven.
I moaned in appreciation, lucky enough not to have to use words to express my desire to surrender to him in all possible ways.
He pressed wildly against my hole while shouting that he was coming. I’m pretty sure I made a vacuum with my lips to suck him dry and not miss a drop of his precious jizz. It was all mine; he was all mine, at least during that road trip.
I leaned back in my seat, satisfied. The taste of his cum lingered on my tongue, so I closed my eyes, willing to prolong the sensation of being the one who did it for him, despite all the friendships he struck so easily, or all the girls he hooked up with.
His hand on my hard cock surprised me. Weird that I’d forgotten about myself while blowing him. But it would be like that always; for all that he blamed me – not feeling enough, being a cold bastard, all that jazz – he’d always be my number one.
“Pay attention to the road,” I said in a rough, shaky voice.
“Don’t you worry about that,” he said. His voice was a little breathless. “I’ll work you like a stick.” He laughed at his own bad pun.
There was nothing bad, however, about the way he manipulated my cock. That was a guy who’d touched himself plenty in his life, unlike me, who had to do stuff like that on the down low. In other words, until then, I hadn’t gotten my fill on jerking off, either. No wonder I was so dull and felt the need to compensate by forcing myself to be interesting enough for my stepbrother to like me.
Although I was always my own self a lot more around him and I’d ever been around anyone else.
His hand moved steadily.
“Have you jerked off a lot of guys?” I asked, bent on giving myself a little thrill via a jab of jealousy.
Adrian made a little small sound in his throat. “Wouldn’t you like to know that?” His thumb brushed over the head of my cock, insisting there, spreading the precum to make it all slick and wet. It felt good, but too good. I squirmed in my seat, my own sensitivity getting the better of me.
“Yeah, I would.” My voice came out in short bursts of words.
“What else do you want to know?” Adrian was starting to read a few pages of my book, even though I wasn’t still an open one for him to read. “How many chicks I’ve fucked? How many guys I’ve blown?”
“All of it,” I replied. “I want to know everything.”
“You freak.” He laughed and sped up his rubbing motion on my cock.
As much as I wanted to prolong my pleasure, to taste the sensation of his hand on me, the same I was relishing in the taste of his jizz in my mouth, I couldn’t stop. He obviously had the practiced ease of someone who’d done that before plenty of times, and obviously, not only to himself.
“Did you ever have a boyfriend?” I asked with the last of my strength.
“No,” he replied. “Is that it, Jo? Do you wanna be my boyfriend?” He mocked me, drawling the words.
I didn’t answer. I blamed it all, without words and only in his eyes, on the powerful climax that hit me. Even someone with a penchant for self-flagellation like me felt the need to keep a few crumbles of humiliation for later. Just in case I had to nurse my wounded soul with some proper medicine, the bitter, biting kind.
“So,” Adrian asked after I was prim and proper again, and no one would suspect we did anything remotely naughty with one of us driving, “what are we going to tell our parents?”
“About what?” His question was like a cold shower after that pleasant experience.
His laugh unsettled me. I had no idea what he meant. “About us, dummy.”
“What do you mean? We have nothing to tell them.”
Adrian scoffed, as if he couldn’t believe what I was saying. “Obviously, not that we like to suck each other off. But, you know, you should come out. My mom knows I’m bi.”
That came as a harsh surprise. For all his open manner of talking to his mom, I’d never thought he shared with her such things. Had she told my father anything about her son’s sexuality? I doubted it, but again that was hardly his business. Though it disturbed me to think that she was hiding something like that from him. How could she get on with a Bible-thumping idiot like my father, knowing he’d condemn her only son for liking dick?
Their family surprised me; no, better said, they were a shock to me. The Internet told me enough about different people existing in the world, but it was one thing to read about it, and another to see them in flesh and blood.
“I shouldn’t,” I said, too stunned to form coherent thoughts just yet.
“Is this about all that Bible study?” he asked, giving me another mocking look.
“Oh, well, that plays a big part,” I sputtered, annoyed with him that he could treat something like that lightly. “Dad would kick my ass into the next century if something like this reached his ears. Don’t be fucking dumb, Adrian.”
He schooled his face into a tough expression. “You’re a grownup, Jo. Own it, for fuck’s sake.”
“I will not say anything about me or us,” I said. I hoped my voice wasn’t shaking, and that he understood what I meant.
“Why? Are you afraid of him?” he challenged me.
“Weren’t you saying that your old man used to beat you?” I reminded him. “Oh, wait, now I remember. It was a lie, wasn’t it? Well, it’s not a lie in my case. Just in case you’re too hard in the head, let me spell it for you. I don’t exactly itch for a beating from my dad this Thanksgiving.”
“He wouldn’t do that,” he said firmly. “Not in front of me and my mom.”
“Well, he’s just going to wait until you’ve gone to bed or something. Don’t you ever think of whatever comes out of your mouth? Do you really want to mess everything up? Fuck, you’re a stupid jerk, Adrian.”
I hadn’t meant to insult him that badly, but the animal inside me needed to protect himself.
He fell silent. I watched his hands, tense on the wheel. I didn’t say anything, though. When we don’t say the things we want to say, we often come to regret the missed opportunities. But that was a lesson I’d come to learn, eventually.
tbc
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