Chapter 5 I’ve Missed the Fear
i've missed the fear
Elias
"Elias…" Blythe pants as I thrust into her pussy from behind. "Oh, god!"
I watch her fingertips dig into the comforter, gritting her teeth as she writhes beneath me. She's come twice already—her second orgasm wracked her tight body minutes ago, and she's spent, her body begging me to relent.
I know what I need to do to reach my release, even if I don't want to. I thought I had broken the habit.
For more than a year, I couldn't come without thinking of my stepsister.
It didn't matter if I was alone, lying in the dark with my dick in my hand or buried balls deep in another girl with her pussy squeezing my cock.
If I wanted that release, I knew I had to close my eyes and think of Saige—on her knees with tears in her eyes and her lips wrapped around me, or pumping me with her hand, hoping if she pleased me enough, I'd end her torment.
Saige riding me, her expression drenched in both pleasure and shame, begging me not to tell anyone what a slut she was for it. After all, I'd embarrassed her enough already.
Saige sleeping peacefully in her room until I cover her mouth, climb on top of her, slide her panties aside, and sink my dick inside her.
It took months of not seeing her—months at West Pine University and a revolving door of endless pussy—before finally, I could come without picturing some version of Saige helpless beneath me.
And it took only one night to undo it.
Blythe cries out again, and even though I know she loves nothing more than to be on the receiving end of my thick cock—hell, she's been begging for it since she got back to campus—I know she's had enough and wants it to be over.
But I smell cinnamon from downstairs and know the object of my obsession is not far from reach. I pound into Blythe a little harder, hoping Saige can hear her scream.
And obsession is the right word for it, although I don't like to admit it. I became addicted to it—the look on her pretty face, the hopelessness and shame in her big brown eyes and their refusal to meet mine. There was power in it.
But Saige is more resilient than I'd hoped, more adaptable. And she stopped fearing me a while ago…until last night.
That's why I did it. It wasn't because of anything Dax said or the things I know about Miles—it was because I saw that look on Saige's tear-streaked face and felt something for the first time in a long fucking time.
And I wanted to bathe in it. She was a hopeless, pathetic mess on my bedroom floor, and I don't know if I've ever been harder.
I think I would have done just about anything to hold on to it.
I didn't necessarily want Dax's dick in her mouth, but it was a means to an end.
I drank in her shame, and I don't think she'll meet my eyes without that shame burning her cheeks ever again.
And when he pulled down her top, letting her perky little tits spill over the top…it took all my willpower not to take out my own rock-hard dick and stroke it in front of both of them.
I waited until after we got rid of him. Even then, I didn't want to let her out of my sight, but when she finished cleaning downstairs, I pulled it out, squeezing my fist over it only a few times before cum erupted from the tip, spilling all over my stomach and down my hand, imagining it spilling all over Saige's tits instead.
I haven't been able to get her out of my head or my dick out of my hand since.
That's why I finally caved and texted Blythe back.
We hooked up a couple of times last year; I'm always honest about who I am and what I want, and I don't like to lead girls on, so I rarely do repeats, but the situation felt dire, and she was right there.
I fucked her twice last night, and when she fell asleep afterward, I let her stay so I could fuck her again this morning.
I told myself that in the morning, I wouldn't need to think about Saige. And I lied.
"Elias…" Blythe moans. "Come in me…please."
At this point, I know it's not just because she wants my cum; it's because I've fucked her raw, and she can't take it anymore.
So, I give in, grabbing her by her blonde, curly hair, imagining it's Saige's wavy brown hair with the pink streaks in the front that I fucking hate wrapped around my fist instead.
Closing my eyes, I picture Saige on my bed, her tits bouncing every time I slam my dick into her, humiliation in her eyes while her pussy milks my cock…
and that despite the humiliation, when I pull it out, drenching her face in my cum, she can't help but to open her mouth for it.
Fuck, I'm going to explode.
"Fuck…I want to come on your face," I groan before flipping her over.
She doesn't object, so I pull out right before my dick erupts, removing the condom and pumping it in my hand, and in my head, ropes of white, hot cum paint my stepsister's face and tits.
"Holy shit," she says breathlessly once I finally stop spilling. "Elias, that was…"
"You can use this to clean up," I say, tossing her my shirt.
While the naked girl on my bed wipes the cum from her face, I catch the time and dress quickly, suddenly worried I won't make it downstairs before Saige leaves. I've lived here all summer; I know how thin these walls are.
I want to see her face after listening to me fuck. I don't bother putting a shirt on.
I head downstairs with Blythe still in the bathroom, exhaling relief when I see Saige is still here, making French toast. I pull out a chair, sitting across from Dax and Nolan.
"Sounds like you had a good morning," Dax says.
Even from the side, I can see Saige's cheeks burning, her movement stiff and uncomfortable. She refuses to look in my direction, just how I like it.
"You have no fucking idea how good it was."
A few seconds later, Blythe comes downstairs, dressed in her clothes from the night before. She heads for the front door, and while I normally wouldn't stop her, I do now.
"Hey, Blythe, why don't you come sit down?"
"What?" she asks. "Why?"
Dax looks at me like I have two fucking heads.
"Saige, why don't you make my friend some breakfast, too?"
She doesn't turn, doesn't say anything, but I watch her tense up before soaking two more pieces of bread and then tossing them into the pan.
Blythe slides into the seat next to me, and I throw my arm around her shoulders.
"Well, this is normal," Nolan says.
Dax tries not to laugh. "Hey, I'm Dax. I think we met last year."
"Yeah, I remember you guys. I'm Blythe."
Saige crosses the room with Arcadia at her feet, setting plates in front of me and Blythe first before returning for two more.
I can tell Blythe is confused about what's going on—not only because she didn't expect me to ask her to stay, but because of Saige's weird mannerisms and uncomfortable presence.
I'm sure she can tell something is off here. I kind of like that, too.
Saige sneaks a piece of toast to Arcadia before bringing plates over for Dax and Nolan. "If the dog shits all over the floor, Saige, you're cleaning it up," I tell her.
She shrugs, still refusing to look in my direction, and before she leaves the table, Dax grabs her by the wrist. "Hey…" He pauses, and I watch him rub the inside of her wrist with his thumb, waiting for her to look at him. "Have you eaten anything, Saige?"
She shakes her head. "I'm fine."
He pulls her onto his lap. "I can hear your stomach. You've got to eat, baby."
"Dax…I don't…"
But he ignores her, cutting his toast and then holding out the first bite for her to take. "I'm not asking, princess. I'm telling you."
I know Saige doesn't want to sit on Dax's lap and let him spoon-feed her. Hell, everyone at this table probably knows that—including Dax. But she does it anyway, opening her mouth and slowly taking the fork into her mouth without looking at any of us.
And somehow, my dick swells again. I wish I were wearing anything other than grey sweatpants right now.
Dax smiles, then takes the next bite for himself. "Mmm, this is really good."
"It is really good," Blythe says. "Thank you for breakfast…Saige, right?"
Saige nods as Dax feeds her another bite.
"You're meeting the family today, Blythe," Dax says. "This is Elias's little sister."
"Oh, wow," Blythe says. "Really? How cool. I didn't realize you had a sibling here."
"I'm not his sister," Saige says, her tone dripping with animosity. Blythe doesn't miss it, and I can tell she's even more confused about the dynamic.
But what do I care? At least I get to watch Saige squirm…even if it is on Dax's lap.
"She's my stepsister," I explain.
Saige turns, wrapping an arm around Dax's neck and then whispering something in his ear.
"Yeah, go ahead," he tells her.
She gets up, grabs her backpack from the barstool, and then heads for the front door. "I have a class at nine," she says to no one in particular. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Saige," Dax says when she's halfway out the door. She stops to listen to him. "Make sure you eat lunch, okay? Everything's fine."
She doesn't answer before pulling the door closed behind her.
I shouldn't be all that surprised to see him going soft for her.
Dax doesn't actually care about anyone aside from Nolan, but he likes feeling needed by desperate people.
I've watched him over the years, taking home shiny, broken things and keeping them warm in his bed until he tires of them, and then putting them back in worse condition than he found them, completely unfazed.
After this weekend, Saige is definitely desperate and broken. But he won't work on her.
Nolan finishes first, leaving for his run, and the three of us finish our breakfast in uncomfortable silence, clearing the table ourselves since I can't make Saige do it for us.
"Is that really your sister?" Blythe asks, putting her plate in the dishwasher.
"Stepsister."
"Is she dating your roommate? Is she okay?"
"No."