Authors: Ruby Nicks
(Steamy Step Taboo Romance)
© 2015 Ruby Nicks
If you would like to receive exclusive content and be the first to find out about new releases,
please sign up for my mailing list
All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all productions of the author's imagination.
Please note that this work is intended only for adults over the age of 18 and all characters represented are 18 or over and are not related by blood.
All characters depicted in these stories are over the age of 18 and are not blood related.
The following is intended for mature audiences only, and includes several scenes of a graphic sexual nature.
About This Book:
Table of Contents:
If there was a list somewhere of the things you shouldn't do in this world, sleeping with your stepbrother would probably be right up there near the top. Perhaps between killing someone and robbing a bank. Sometimes it's fun to break the rules though, and at other times, it's completely impossible to avoid it altogether. I know when we adopted my little brother, he wasn't meant to turn into my personal sex toy, or even my 'ready at any time' lover, but sometimes these things are meant to be, and that's exactly what happened to us.
I was a miracle baby, so my parents never tired of telling me. Not only was my conception a near complete medical impossibility (my mother had been thought to have had an incomplete and therefore completely non-functional womb from birth), my birth, trapped several feet underground while an earthquake rumbled on above us, and with my mother already unconscious, was described by the national press as an 'act of God.'
When they dug us out, having been stuck for several days without hope of ever being rescued, I was apparently lying calmly on my mother's chest and sucking my thumb. My mother had no recollection of having given birth, and every doctor up and down the country pronounced my survival as against all pre-conceived knowledge and expectation.
My picture was plastered all over the press, and for a good couple of weeks I was the most famous, most recognisable baby in America.
When my mother decided to expand the family, and try again for another miracle baby, the results weren't any where near as promising. Visits to the doctors ended in tears, and x-rays of my mother's womb showed a mess inside her that should have never been fit for her first baby, let alone any attempt to try again. She was told by one particularly obnoxious specialist, that the sun had already shined on her once, much stronger than on any other person he knew. He told her to appreciate her miracle daughter and get on with her life. That was when my mother decided to adopt.
My father was against it first of all, but when he realised that he could choose both a boy, and someone that had been toilet trained already, he was over the moon. Finally, he thought, he'd have someone to accompany him to football games, someone to pass on all of his worldly wisdoms to, and most importantly, male solidarity in what was a female dominated house. I expect he wasn't thinking as well, that the boy would be a perfect sexual partner for his daughter, nor that his perfectly sized cock would fit expertly into both his daughter's vagina, and her tight little ass-hole.
The process took longer than my parents had expected. I think when my dad thought about adoption, he imagined walking around a room full of cages, much like a dog rescue home, pointing at the boy he liked the look of, waiting a week for injections and taking him home. Obviously it wasn't at all like that. My parents had to fill out hundreds of forms, character statements had to be taken, the house had to be inspected several times over the course of a year, and I had to be interviewed, without my parents present. This whole process took just under two years, and finally, when Samuel Jacob Matthew Johnson arrived to our house, terrified at what was awaiting him, I was almost seven years old.
We grew up like normal children. Sam, who he came to be known as, took several months to fully adjust, during which time he screamed and peed the bed as often as possible. He was five when he got to us, but by the size of him, he could have been half as young. Several years in several different families had made him untrustworthy of adults, and as a result, despite him being a boy and me a miracle girl with a cape, a mask and special powers, we became best friends, much to the consternation of my forever doting mother who was desperate for his attention.
Eventually Sam came round, and grew to love and trust his new home. Dad took him to every single sporting event he could get tickets for, and mom treated us both like demi-gods. He turned into a smart and handsome adult, and the scrawniness of his early years, was replaced by muscle and height, as puberty favoured him and sport became both an interest to watch and a passion to play. I don't know when it was I fell in love with him, but it was perhaps during that time that I realised it.
Sam and I had always been close, but we got even closer as we grew up, spending as much time as possible together both inside the house and out, and earning the nickname 'the twins', from both our close friends and parents.
We both had several different partners through college, but always preferred to spend time together instead, realising we'd have much more fun together than with anyone else. We'd go to the cinema together, hang out at home, play games, study together and even go shopping together. At night, when Sam and I had finally said goodnight, I'd lie in bed and masturbate thinking about him, wishing he was with me.
One day, when my parents were away, attending the funeral of a distant relative in another county, Sam and I were up in my bedroom playing a game, and the talk turned to kissing. I don't know how we got onto the subject, but before we knew it, we were talking about first kisses, best kisses and worst kisses, who we'd love to kiss and who we wouldn't kiss for all the money in the world. I couldn't keep my eyes off my brother's juicy lips as he talked, and felt my own lips, both my pussy lips and my kissing lips swell out with passion.
'OK', I said, 'so who would you love to kiss?'
'Well that one's easy', he said. 'Angelina Jolie.'
'Well let's make it a bit more realistic', I said. 'Who would you love to kiss out of the people that you know?'
Sam smiled and ruffled his hair sheepishly. He even turned a bit red. He giggled and I goaded him a bit, desperate to know who he was thinking about. He sipped his beer, and smiled at me again.
'It's a secret', he said.
'You've got a crush on someone', I said.
'Maybe', Sam said, smiling again. His face was still a little red, and it had been a while since I'd seen him quite so embarrassed. I liked it.
'Tell me', I said getting excited.
I was nineteen then, and Sam eighteen. Both of us virgins, with very little sexual experience, and a lot of sexual desire. Looking back, you could have cut the tension in the room with a knife. It was thick and all around us.
He sipped his beer again, avoiding my eyes.
'If I tell you', Sam said, finally. 'You can't judge me.'
'It's not a teacher is it?' I said.
'No, it's not a teacher', he assured me, 'but it is someone I'm not supposed to be wanting to kiss.'
'A boy!' I said to tease him.
'No, it's not a boy either', he said.
I was getting more excited. Part of me knew already what he was going to say, or at least hoped it. The other part was scared to hear it.
'It's someone I have known for a long time, and someone I spend almost all my time with. I've been dreaming about being with her for as long as I can remember, and can't imagine my life without her. Shit this is difficult', he said and rubbed the back of his neck.
I got closer to him and held his hands. When he looked back up to me, I knew it before he needed to say it. He leaned into me and I felt myself inclining towards him like a magnet. When our lips touched each other, it felt like fireworks were going off underneath my skin. We kissed, long and deep and sensually. When he tried to pull away, I pulled him back, and bit his lip. Finally we broke off and looked at each other, both a little embarrassed.
'I hope you were going to say me?' I said, suddenly wondering.
'You know what, I was actually going to say Carmen, but that was amazing',
'You ass-hole', I said, and threw a cushion at him, both of us laughing.
'Do you know how long I've wanted to do that for?' he said.
'If it's as long as I have, I know exactly how long', I said back to him.
'Why didn't you tell me before?' Sam said.
'I don't know', I said. 'Why didn't you tell me?'
'I guess I was scared', Sam said. 'Hey, do you want to do it again?'
'Hell yeah', I said, and practically leapt on him.
Sam and I must have kissed for about half an hour, until our tongues were sore and our mouths were dry. I guess neither of us really knew how to move onto the next stage, either that or we were just catching up on lost time. Whatever it was, the sensation was incredible, and when we were finished and Sam leant back, I could see he was erect.
'Oh my God Sam', I said, putting my hand over my mouth and looking at the tent that the front of his trousers had turned into. 'That's huge.'
'I can't help it', he said. 'You turn me on.'
'Can I see it?' I said, excited.
My heart was beating much faster than normal, and I knew I was super horny.
'If I show you', he said, 'you have to show me your pussy.'
'Ok', I agreed, 'but you first. Let me see your cock.'
'You have to take it out yourself', Sam said, and stretched fully back so he was lying on the ground. 'It'll be better that way.'
I moved closer to him and knelt down over his legs, so I could undo his jeans and pull his cock out. When I said I was sexually inexperienced, I meant I was completely sexually inexperienced. I'd never actually even seen a cock before, outside of a porn magazine or film. I'd never touched one, never tasted one and certainly never put one up inside my pussy.
'Are you sure?' I said to Sam, getting nervous.
'I love you Izzy', he said. 'I have done for as long as I can remember. This is natural. If it's what you want then do it, if not then don't.'
I pushed his T-shirt up and exposed his beautiful, well toned belly. I leaned in and kissed it, and felt the form of his cock push against my chin. I popped his top button and pulled on the zip, taking it all the way down past his shaft. When I touched him, either inadvertently, or on purpose, he moaned, air running through into his lungs like wind whipping through torn metal.
'Lift up', I said, and he did so.
I pulled his jeans past his bum, and pulled them down to where I was sat, just above his knees. I could just about make out the form of his cock, pushing against the white fabric of his boxer-shorts, and could see how excited he was, as a patch of what I thought was cum, had already begun to seep into the lining.
'Did you come', I said, naively.
'It's pre-cum', he said, correcting me. 'It comes out before cum, when you get excited.'
I was so excited, I didn't know what to do. It was a moment I had thought about for a long time, and now that it had arrived, I didn't want to ruin it, or do it too quickly. I decided to touch him, but over the top of his boxer-shorts first. I moved my hand down, and the moment I came in contact with him, dancing my fingers over the length of his shaft, felt like all my Christmases coming at once. I could feel the heat coming off him, as though there was a bonfire inside his cock, and every time I moved my fingers up towards the patch of pre-cum, I saw his glans twitch and almost his whole body throb. With one hand on his cock, I moved the other one underneath my skirt to my pussy, unable to resist touching myself as well.
A little while later, when I couldn't resist any longer, I put my fingers underneath the waistband of his boxer-shorts and pulled them down past his huge meaty cock. When he was fully exposed, I had to just sit there for a while and take him in, amazed at what was in front of me. His cock was massive, sexy and very, very hard. Even his balls were bigger and much more sensitive than I expected.
I grasped his shaft and squeezed until my fingers went white, just to test his strength.
'Careful', Sam said and sat up. 'Not so hard.'
'Sorry', I said and began to wank him, holding his cock with both hands and shuffling his foreskin up over his swollen, purple glans.