Chapter 8
Eyes wide, Red nodded eagerly, his punch making endearing little frothy waves above his eyebrows. I gathered up my thick hank of hair, using my teeth to pull the extra-durable elastic off my wrist and up into my fingers. I loved my hair, a reminder of my biological father’s Polynesian roots, but it was a nightmare in humid conditions. All the fucking hadn’t done it any favors, either. I peevishly blew a thin black strand off my face and toed Red’s sodden swim trunks over between his legs for padding, sinking down on my knees with a squelch. His eyes followed my every move, narrowing with pleasure as I wrapped a hand around his shaft again.
I gave the head a slow, experimental lick, a cold little drizzle of more watery cherry spurting into my mouth, the liquid thinner than my earlier taste had been. I dipped lower, taking half of his shaft between my lips, the chilled glass surface nice on my overheated tongue. Red also tasted really good, but I wasn’t sure how much I should be enjoying it, at least openly. Did he get off on being…guzzled? A quick glance up at his expression answered that question immediately: he absolutely did.
His hand rested heavily on my head, but thankfully Red had enough sense to know not to push or pull me without my okay. “How’s that taste, Jules? You like it?”
I hummed pleasantly, the vibration making Red’s toes curl against the punch-soaked floor with a muffled curse. I slid off with an audible pop, sucking on his tip like a straw. I was rewarded with a cool mouthful of Chill-Assist Cherry punch, which had always been my favorite, even before I’d met Red, not that I’d ever admit that to him. But what the hell, I suppose I could stroke his ego and his cock at the same time. “Mmm…you’re so refreshing Red. I could drink a whole glass of you.”
“That’s right, Jules. Suck me down like the thirsty little cup you are.” I loved the raw need in his voice, and maybe—just maybe—my new sex-nickname was growing on me too. I answered by sliding the entire bulb into my mouth at once, sucking like it was a cocktail straw in a thick milkshake. Red cursed again, his punch sloshing as his hips rose off the bench, chasing my mouth. “F-fuck, Jules. Yes…like that…I-I can’t-” He shouted as a hard blast of punch hit the back of my throat, making me choke and gag before I found my rhythm again, swallowing frantically. No matter how much I drank, however, it just kept shooting out like a broken water pipe, and Red had reached down to furiously jerk his shaft as it did.
The hand in my hair pulled me off my “tap” with another loud pop. I instinctually closed my eyes as Red’s punch splashed across my flushed face in thick, cold waves, running down my hairline and neck. He pulled back on my hair to make my chest arch, and angled in close to aim more thick splashes directly on my breasts. The cold glass tip nudged at my right nipple, squirting a thin, hard stream of punch at it as it pebbled. I lifted my hands to press my breasts together with a grin, knowing a tit man when I saw one. Red jerked forward, sliding his still-dribbling shaft up the valley of my breasts and fucking upwards for a few deep strokes with a hiss of pleasure. We both watched him slide through the mess of punch in my cleavage as the stream finally tapered off, slumping back heavily onto the bench. He panted heavily, grinning like an idiot and looking at me with so much affection it made me squirm as I got up off my knees. “God damn Jules. I’ve never felt like that before. What the hell did you do to me?”
“What you asked, Red.” I laughed, swiping punch away from my eyes. I was glad I’d tied my hair back, it would have been soaked with Red if I hadn’t. “So do I look more…uhm…even, I guess?” Another glance at the clock told me we were almost out of time.
“You look even more gorgeous than usual, and that’s a high bar.” He smirked, grabbing his swim trunks and wringing them out before tugging them back on. He stood, reaching for me and holding me against him as he retrieved my clothes, helping me pull the wet garments back on as I grimaced. I hated wet clothes.
His hands paused as they skimmed my sides, leaving my tank stretched like a wet tarp between my arms and over my head. “Red? What is it? Fuck, did we not hear them pull up?” I frantically tugged on the fabric, trying to get it over my tits before we were discovered.
“No. No, better. I think we actually just fucked our way out of a problem, sis.” He laughed loudly and reached past me for the door handle, his pitcher a solid, heavy weight against my back. The contact triggered some dirty thoughts about liquid-assisted doggy style that made my satiated pussy clench appreciatively. My new, unexpected thirst for Red was so distracting, it took a beat for me to realize the sauna door had reluctantly slid free a few more inches. The rotten branch was still stubbornly wedged in the track, but I could shimmy through the opening if I sucked in my stomach.
So I did, blushing again as a trickle of punch ran down my inner thigh at the squeeze. Ignoring the evidence of our tryst currently dripping into the lawn, I quickly yanked chunks of rotted wood out of the track and dragged the door fully open to clear it for Red’s much larger form. We looked at each other, then the sauna, and laughed so hard I had tears in my eyes. I clutched my belly, abs aching from both the earlier thorough fucking and cracking up with Red, and he hustled us over to the patio even as I struggled to stop snorting with laughter.
With a wince of apology, he cranked on the garden hose and drenched me from head to toe, ensuring all the punch ran out of my clothes and off the edge of the concrete patio pad. It was cold as fuck and I shivered, hugging myself with a scowl: I knew it was necessary, but now I was chilly all over again and my pussy was a little sore. I held the hose up for Red to do a quick turn too, rinsing down his punch-soaked trunks to get as much color as we could out.
The clock told us mom and Dan were going to be later than we’d planned for, thank the various gods: a quick call to mom’s cell confirmed she was a little tipsy on margaritas and they were still lingering at the taco joint. I allowed myself a deep sigh of relief as I wrung out my hair over the grass, getting ready to pad inside to the bathroom for a proper shower while Red hosed out the sauna. It was sheer luck that our absolutely delicious lapses in judgment went undiscovered, but god, what were we thinking? We couldn’t ever do that again.
Could we?
I locked eyes with Red as I turned to go inside, his soft smile doing something to my lower belly before he turned to resume washing his punch off the wooden slats. I slipped into the house with a smile of my own, wondering what the hell we were going to do with this dangerous, exciting new knowledge.
Whether I wanted to admit it or not, even though it’d been rushed out of necessity, sex with Red was the best I’d ever had. Hell, I already wanted more of it and I could still practically feel the phantom stretch of his thick glass rod inside of me. I might have said it in the heat of the moment, but I hadn’t lied: I really was thirsty for my stepbrother.
I thought about Red’s heartfelt confession as I soaped up my body, admiring the faint pink of the suds as I washed away the telltale signs of his cherry-flavored orgasm. All that antagonism and weirdness had just been his way of trying to tell me, and that was crazy.
I’d been rinsing my face when I heard a creak, coughing as I accidentally snuffed up some water: you’d never guess I took a damn firehose of punch to the face without flinching not an hour ago. As the bathroom door opened a few inches inward with a gentle knock, Red’s voice echoed through the gap. “Hey Jules? Do you mind if I come in? I just want to talk. Dad called, by the way—he and Tracy drank too much and ended up getting a hotel room for the night.”
Relief surged through me, glad for the opportunity to really clean up both my body and the sauna before our parents returned. And, if I was being honest, for the chance to explore my new, forbidden connection with my stepbrother before we’d have to fake indifference in front of our parents. “Yeah, sure Red, come on in.”
He slid into the room, his pitcher just barely able to clear the doorframe, and I stifled a giggle as I shoved my wet, heavy hair over my shoulder to watch. The steam from my hell-hot shower, which was the only correct temperature as far as I was concerned, steamed up the outside of his body almost immediately. Telltale clinking told me he’d refilled his ice, and the level of his punch was just below his rim, where I was more used to seeing it. I shivered as I imagined my fingers wrapped over his rim again, massaging that thick glass edge to hear him moan.
He’d changed into grey sweatpants, which looked unfairly good on him, particularly because I could make out the heavy outline of his half-hard cock as he leaned on the sink. “Are you okay? I’m sorry, I know we were kind of rushing to clean up and all, but I didn’t get the chance to check in. Even though I’ve had a crush on you forever, I know this is…kind of a lot. I wanted to see where your head’s at.”