Drowning

SLOANE

He turned me over in one fluid motion, strong hands gripping my hips and flipping me onto my back across the reclined seats. My spine hit the leather with a soft thud, legs falling open wide around him as the fogged windows blurred the distant city lights into hazy halos. Cold air kissed my bare breasts and stomach; heat radiated off his body as he knelt between my spread thighs, cock heavy and glistening with my cream, veins standing out along the thick shaft.

“On your back,” he rasped, voice wrecked. “I want to watch your face when you lose it. I want to see exactly what I do to my stepsister’s greedy little pussy.”

I barely had time to catch my breath before he wrapped a fist around the base of his cock and started flogging me with it.

The first wet slap landed directly on my swollen clit—hard enough to make my hips jerk and a sharp cry rip from my throat. The heavy head of his dick smacked against my slick folds again, then again, quick, filthy taps that sent obscene wet sounds echoing through the car. Each impact made my pussy clench visibly, creamy arousal leaking out in thick strings that connected my entrance to the underside of his cock.

“Fuck, listen to that,” he growled, eyes dark and locked between my legs. “Your cunt is so fucking sloppy from the toy earlier. Still dripping everywhere like you’ve been edged for hours—which you have.” He slapped his cock harder against my clit, the wet *smack-smack-smack* growing louder, faster. “This is what you get for sitting so pretty at dinner while I controlled your pussy under the table. Now you’re going to take every slap like the dirty secret you are.”

I moaned helplessly, thighs trembling on either side of his hips. He dragged the thick shaft up and down my slit, grinding the hot, veiny length against my clit in long, punishing strokes before pulling back and flogging me again—short, sharp snaps of his cockhead right on my most sensitive spot. Over and over. The pressure built viciously, my clit throbbing and turning puffy under the relentless assault.

“Chase—oh my God—please—” My back arched off the seat, hands scrambling for purchase on the leather.

“Please what?” He tapped faster, lighter now, the head of his dick flicking rapidly against my clit like a metronome set to ruin me. “Please stop? Or please keep flogging this creamy step-sister cunt until you can’t think straight?”

“Don’t stop,” I sobbed, hips bucking up to meet every slap. “Don’t you dare fucking stop—”

He groaned, low and filthy, and changed the rhythm—long, dragging strokes where he rubbed the entire length of his cock through my folds, the fat head bumping my entrance on every pass before sliding back up to grind hard against my clit. My creamy juices coated him completely now, making his cock shine obscenely in the dim moonlight filtering through the windows.

“Look at the mess you’re making on your stepbrother’s dick,” he rasped, voice thick with lust. “All that white cream from Thanksgiving dinner. You were clenching around that toy the whole time your dad was talking about pie, weren’t you? Thinking about this—about me slapping your pussy raw while our parents were ten feet away.”

“Yes—yes, I was—fuck, Chase—” The words spilled out of me, broken and shameless.

He slapped me harder, three quick, stinging smacks right on my clit that made my vision spark white. Then he pressed the head firmly against my entrance, not pushing in, just resting there, letting me feel the thick crown stretch me open before pulling back and flogging my clit again. The cycle repeated—slap, rub, tap, grind—until my thighs were shaking uncontrollably and my pussy was a dripping, creamy wreck, gushing fresh arousal every time his cock made contact.

I was close. So fucking close.

He felt it. Of course he did.

“Not yet,” he snarled, pulling his cock away completely. I cried out in frustration, but he only smirked and started again—slower this time, more deliberate. He used the heavy shaft to flog the entire length of my pussy in long, wet strokes, the underside dragging over my clit while the head bumped my entrance on every downstroke. Then he switched to quick little taps again, the head of his dick flogging my swollen nub in a merciless rhythm that had me writhing and begging.

“Please—please let me come again—I can’t take it anymore—”

“You can,” he said darkly. “You’re going to take it until this pussy squirts all over me like the filthy girl you are for me.” He gripped his cock tighter and started flogging faster, harder—wet, obscene slaps landing directly on my clit in rapid succession while two of his fingers finally pushed inside me, curling hard against that spot that made me see stars.

The pressure detonated.

My orgasm hit like a freight train, but it wasn’t just a normal climax.

I *squirted*.

Hard.

A hot, powerful gush exploded out of me, soaking his fingers, his cock, and spraying up his chest in a clear, forceful arc. I screamed his name, body convulsing as wave after wave ripped through me. He didn’t stop flogging—kept slapping his cock against my pulsing clit while I kept squirting, the wet sounds turning even filthier as my release poured over him.

“Fuck yes—give it to me,” he growled, leaning forward so the next powerful spurt hit him directly in the chest, then higher, splashing across his throat and jaw. “Squirt all over your stepbrother, baby. Soak me. Look at you—making such a fucking mess on my cock, on my skin. You’re gushing everywhere.”

I couldn’t stop. Another gush erupted, this one stronger, arcing up and catching him across the mouth and cheek. He groaned like it was the hottest thing he’d ever felt, tongue darting out to taste me as he kept flogging my oversensitive clit with his dripping cock. My hips jerked wildly, pussy clenching and releasing in rhythmic spasms as I kept squirting—long, continuous streams that drenched his abs, his chest, his face, even dripping down onto the leather seats beneath us.

He was absolutely covered in me—glistening, wet, ruined—and the sight only made me come harder.

“Chase—Chase—I can’t—oh my God—” My voice broke into a wrecked sob as yet another powerful squirt shot out, hitting him square in the face. He laughed darkly, low and satisfied, still flogging my clit with steady, filthy taps of his cock while my body kept pulsing and gushing uncontrollably.

“That’s it,” he praised, voice hoarse. “Keep squirting for me. Keep soaking your stepbrother like the desperate little slut you are. This pussy has been mine since the second you moved in—mine to tease, mine to edge, mine to make squirt all over my fucking face.”

I came again—or maybe it was still the same endless orgasm—another hot flood pouring out of me, drenching his chest and running in rivulets down his stomach as he finally slowed the flogging, rubbing the head of his cock gently over my twitching clit to draw out every last shuddering spurt.

By the time the waves finally ebbed, I was a shaking, sobbing, soaked mess—pussy creamy and pulsing, thighs glistening, the entire front of Chase’s body shining with my release. He looked down at me like a man who’d just won the only prize he’d ever wanted, cock still rock-hard and dripping with me, chest heaving.

“Fuck, Sloane,” he breathed, voice reverent and filthy all at once. “You just squirted all over your stepbrother like you were trying to drown me.”

I couldn’t even form words. I just reached for him, trembling, pulling him down so I could taste myself on his lips while my body still twitched with aftershocks.