Chapter 7
I’d never heard my stepbrother yell as loudly as he did in climax, but his complete abandon dragged me right over the edge with him, keening his name wildly. I clamped down as Red swelled, pressing mercilessly up against my G-spot. A virtual water balloon of his cum gushed inside me, filling me up exactly like he promised, the pressure exquisite. Red’s cherry scent absolutely filled the sauna as his punch did, gushing out between his still-pistoning glass cock and my body,and down our legs in rivers. It splashed across our feet in buckets as we wantonly fucked through the aftershock in wet, squelching thrusts.
Red gathered me up against his body, still buried deep, kissing me with a slow tenderness at complete odds with our Chill-Assist-soaked fuckfest. “Jules, baby, you’re so goddamn beautiful. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” He whispered it softly against my temple, fingers tangled in my hair as his hand cupped my head.
I smiled shyly against his broad glass cheek, something traitorously close to the warm fuzzies nestling into my chest. “Thank you, Red. That was so damn hot. You were amazing.”
My fingers danced along his rim idly to hold myself up before I remembered it was an erogenous zone and jerked them away, leaning back. He chuckled and guided one of my hands back up to hang on it. “You can touch me anywhere you want, whenever you want. I love it.”
I gave a contented sigh, wincing as my eyes drifted downwards to the puddle of Chill-Assist all over the floor below us. “Oh shit, Red. We made a big goddamn mess of the sauna.” I gasped as I looked down at myself, my pussy, inner thighs, and legs all stained a telltale streaky red. “Oh my god and of me too!”
Red set me back on the bench, glancing briefly at the messy floor before slowly pulling out, drawing overstimulated squeaks from me the whole way, punctuated with a final, embarrassingly large gush of liquid slapping to the floor. He sank, naked, onto the bench across from me, eyes tracing my body, liquid tongue sweeping across his clear lower lip. “Well I’m sure as hell not complaining. You look damn good in my punch, little cup.”
My cheeks flushed at the nickname I’d borrowed in the heat of the moment, and I ducked my head into my shoulder to hide a smile. I cleared my throat a few times, it was scratchy from all the moaning, and painfully dry despite the humid air. The aftermath of crossing the forbidden line with my step brother was much less awkward, though far messier, than I expected.
“Thirsty?” Red smirked, his arms relaxed and resting on top of the bench behind him, his swim trunks now a red-stained puddle at his feet. Between his wide-spread thighs, his cock still jutted proudly, a hypnotic drip of red shivering at the bottom of his tip before falling to the flood on the floor with a faint plop. Voice husky with intention, he tilted his rim towards his lap in indication.“I’m still nice and cold.”
“Red!” I hissed, trying not to laugh at the insanity of our predicament, and the gravity of what we’d just done. Ignoring the obvious invitation, I stood to squint through the sauna doors at the clock on the living room wall. God, it felt like we’d been fucking for hours—glorious hours—but we still had at least twenty minutes before we were in the danger zone. “We—we have to figure out a cover story and-and-oh god, Red, they’re never gonna believe us. They’re gonna know.” I groaned, sliding a hand down my face and closing my eyes to block out the virtual flood of punch still dripping down from my well-fucked pussy.
Red snorted with humor as a familiar flood of anxiety returned to well up inside me. “Jules, baby, your mom, let alone my dad, they have no idea how I have sex. Hell, he barely understands how I came to exist. We’ll just tell them that we tried to use the sauna and I tripped when the branch fell, and you helped me back up. Simple. Explains why there’s punch everywhere, right?”
“Yeah but…” I gestured lamely at my red-stained skin, very clearly centered on my mound and inner thighs. “That won’t explain the, uh, concentration.”
Red chewed at his lower lip, spreading his thighs wider, glass fingers clinking as he gave his shaft an idle stroke. “Like I said, why don’t you have a drink?”
My eyes widened at the implication, questions I probably should have asked an hour ago tumbling out. “But is that…I…mean…is the punch your…” I lowered my voice to a whisper. “Is it your blood? Is it…It can’t all be cum, right? Oh fuck I’m going to have the world’s worst UTI…”
Red laughed loudly, sending his inner punch—now noticeably a few inches lower—sloshing around his wide grin. “Jules, Jules, relax. I’m sugar free, you’re fine, I promise. It’s not blood, it’s just…me. I guess it’s cum too, at least when I get off. I have to jerk off in the shower all the time so I don’t tie-dye my sheets and it’s a pain in the ass. But it’s definitely not…yanno…other stuff. Gross stuff.” His glass wrinkled distastefully where a nose would be, setting another one of my fears to rest: I wasn’t into water sports. “I can and have lost all the punch in my body in a tip-over when I was a kid and I was fine, though it doesn’t exactly feel fantastic. But I promise, I’m nowhere near uncomfortable right now. I could spare many gallons more, so…maybe you could try out the tap and fix our little problem?”
He reached out a hand for me, and, after another hasty glance at the clock, I let him lead me to stand between his thighs. He stroked my naked hip with his free hand, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to my stomach, the span of his mouth nearly stretching across my abdomen. “You don’t have to do a damn thing you don’t want to, Jules. I’m just, you know, trying to offer up some creative problem solving we’ll both enjoy. Can’t blame a guy for trying.” He shrugged with a shy grin. “I honestly didn’t think you’d be down for anything with me, and now that I know you are, I’m even more addicted to you.”
I sighed and rolled my eyes, sheer curiosity, post-orgasm endorphins, and an annoying scratch in my throat winning over good sense. Again. “Watch the clock.”