#stepbro!harry

You couldn’t stop thinking about it. About the thing. How wet his dick was, how he knew you were there at the doorway, the way he looked at you…and he just…came all over himself. You speed through your neighborhood streets to sink yourself into the realm of retail. It’s meant to be a distraction—a visual diversion to get your mind off of Harry and his dripping cock. But it’s as if a part of your subconscious is holding a marathon of your short-term memory, and the past 15 minutes loops on a suspiciously high-definition projector inside of your brain…

You wake up. Harry isn’t shitting on your day 1st thing in the morning. Life seems livable for an hour or so. You think it’s strange, but you want to savor it while you still can. As if he could sense your state of ease, Harry yells for you from his bedroom. You reluctantly decide to check on him. Being well-mannered, you knock on his door before entering. He responds strangely. Your imagination has brought you to dire conclusions. You open the door, growing concerned for his well-being. Then, boom—you get front-row seats to see your step brother and his stupid, perfect cock, and after his cum finishes shooting out of him like lotion out of a pump, he has the audacity to assume you’d want to sample some.

He’s such a scumbag. What—does he think you’re in some kind of pure taboo, bratty-sis, family strokes, sis-loves-me video?! Not that you ever watch those…or even know what they are…

Who are you kidding—you’ve explored this fantasy in the privacy of your bedroom more times than you can count. Especially since the other day when Harry fingered you in the laundry room and left you before you could cum. You’re still mad about that, by the way. Right after it happened, you bolted for your room where you shut your door behind you, dropped to your knees on the floor, and rubbed at your clit to finish what he’d started. You muffled your moans with your free hand as you rode out your perpetual orgasms. It was pathetic how quickly you’d gotten yourself writhing and humping against your fingers to the sick imagery of your step brother savoring your natural lubricant from his fingers. You’d only ever dreamt of something like that coming to fruition. You’ve been entertaining yourself in this perverse land of daydreams for so long—pretending to be repulsed by your step brother and his malignant vulgarity. 

Meanwhile, your thoughts have progressively been plagued by filthy scenarios where you and your step brother participate in extremely inappropriate activities in places where it’s extremely likely for the two of you to get caught. The details aren’t too important…but they do change according to whatever Harry chooses to say and/or do to you each day. 

For example—one time, it was late and you’d just arrived back home from a friend’s house. As you tiptoed across the first floor towards the main staircase, you were spooked by the sudden noise of someone clearing their throat in the living room. You froze and whipped your head in the direction where it came from, squinting in the darkness to try and identify any odd shapes or shadows. Then a phone screen lit up to illuminate his face. Harry’s face. Easily startled, you sucked in a gasp and knocked your elbow against the wooden railing. You clutched onto your arm to self-soothe and tried to hold in an echoing yelp. “Ouch…! Harryyy!” You whisper-yelled. Your eyes darted back to him as if he’d been the one to directly cause you harm. He wasn’t even looking at you; rather, he was pretending to be occupied with his device as if he was completely unaware of your presence. Prick. You knew he was up to something.

“Harry!” You hiss, slowly approaching him near the sofa.

That was when he finally acknowledged you by lazily lifting his gaze to travel up your figure, taking his sweet time in doing so. “Oh…you’re home.” His voice was both dull and bitter in its tone. You sensed more tension in the room than usual, and you wondered what sort of fight he was trying to pick at 2 o’clock in the goddamned morning. While you were sleepily making sense of the situation in your head, Harry went ahead and gave you a hefty clue as to why he seemed so peeved. 

“So, how’d it go with what’s-his-nuts?” He shut his phone off before reaching beside him and clicking a lamp on. It took a few uncomfortable seconds for your eyes to adjust to the sudden brightness. Due to the unpleasant combination of drowsiness, the lingering sting on your funny-bone, and the overall irritation climbing up your spine from Harry preventing you from going straight to sleep, you answered his stupid question with pure impatience. “His name is Max, and I had a lot of fun, actually.” You ended your statement with a sigh. The sound came off as more of a swooning sigh, but that was completely unintentional. You were just exhausted and you honestly didn’t feel like staying up even later just for your step brother to tease you about a guy you just hung out with.  “Ah, I see…” he hummed, staring you and your body down as if it were his property to defend.

Max was just a friend, but Harry wasn’t convinced of that. It certainly didn’t help matters that you’d returned home so late wearing the not-so-conservative outfit you’d chosen to wear. 

But you'd only participated in a movie marathon, and you both just lost track of time. Honestly—that was it. Sure, there may be a possibility that Max has a little crush on you. But he’s never tried to make a move on you or cross any boundaries. He’s nothing but a kind, funny, respectful gentleman towards you, and you value his friendship. 

Harry has met him in person a few times and he’s always put on this protective older brother persona as some intimidation tactic to make Max nervous whenever he comes over. It’s like he’s a jealous boyfriend or something, except he’s your step brother, and he essentially has no valid reason to act the way he does. Regardless, you still had to put up with the grump and his accusatory attitude after every interaction you have with your friend.

“…Hope you kids at least used protection…” Harry’s expression grew even more resentful, but to his surprise, your face immediately reflected the same. “Wha—what the fuck, Harry?!” You whisper-yelled, stomping all the way towards him with your arms crossed over your middle. The man just propped his leg upon his opposite knee and huffed in disbelief. “Oh, c’mon, Y/N. Don’t play coy w’me. Everyone knows he’s dying to fuck you—” 

“—Stop! He is not!”

“Ok. Keep tellin’ y’self that, babe—”

“—Don’t fucking call me that.” You held out an accusatory finger at him.

“Oi, whatever. I just hope he’s got a fresh box of Trojans at his place.” You made a face at him. “Ugh, just shut up, Harry.” 

He hummed, dropping his leg down so he could spread his knees wide and sit back against the couch cushion with his hands behind his head. “Hmm…oh, by the way…” He slowly stood to his feet, towering over you as if he were twice your size. You felt the remnants of whatever power or tenacity you had slip from your lips in a tiny whimper as his chest brushed against yours and your nipples perked up at the contact even through the layers of your clothing. You swallowed dryly. The lack of decent moisture in your mouth almost made you choke.

Harry leant down so his lips and stubble tickled your cheek. “…Don’t you ever tell me what I’m allowed to call you. I can speak to you however the fuck I want. You understand me?” His voice was deep and harsh, his accent thick. It only got like that when he was serious. I guess this was one of those times. Your heart sunk to the floor. He carefully pulled away and you were actually quite aroused by his display of dominance…at first. 

Your step brother was just trying to get a rise out of you. His method of doing so was really fucking hot and you desperately wanted to be a good girl so he’d reward you later…but that’s not what this was. No. Harry wanted to use your crush on him to his advantage. But guess what? You weren’t gonna let Harry walk all over you. Not when he got to have his fun making his way around the neighborhood with all the desperate housewives and their newly divorced 40-something friends. 

He acted like he wanted you—like you were his. Except he was only interested in bedding the local cougars and milfs. You weren't either of those things…i.e.: you weren’t his type. And so why would you want to waste your time sneaking around with your STEP BROTHER, of all people, when he’d just humiliate you and leave you for someone more experienced anyway? It wasn’t worth the pain of rejection nor the embarrassment once mom and dad would eventually find out. 

And so, instead of putting on your ‘good girl’ act, you glared at him. “HA! I don’t think so, you asshole. Fuck off!” Your voice was a bit more amplified than intended, but it didn’t seem to stir any commotion upstairs. Phew…

Harry, however, seemed to think you were a ticking time-bomb. Clasping a palm over your mouth as his other hand held the back of your neck over your hair, he shushed you and held you still whilst you struggled against his firm hold with flailing, combative arms. Your eyes were wide, your brows scrunched in frustration, and every muffled whine and grunt only further entertained Harry as he chuckled and held you tighter.

You pried his fingers off your lips just long enough to spit out the words, “L-Let go of m-me…you idiot!”

Harry laughed and replaced his fingers over your mouth where he previously had them. “And what are you gonna do ‘bout it, you little brat?” His lips curved up into a sneer. If you had the energy, you’d pounce right back at Harry and claw at those stupid fucking dimples until they were unrecognizable due to the scratches. Alas, your eyelids were becoming heavier with each blink and you were close to collapsing onto the floor. The two of you just stared at each other for a few dragging moments, quietly contemplating one another’s next move. But lack of energy was getting the best of both of you. Harry’s grip was weakening and your legs were wobbly. 

You used the last ounce of oomph you had left to shut your step brother up for the night. Shuffling your feet, you nudged Harry backwards until he fell back onto his plush chair. You then stood right in between his spread legs, leaned down until your face was level with his—your hands on either one of his knees, slowly sliding up his meaty thighs and gently squeezing and raking your smooth nails up and down his sweatpant-clad legs. You never took your eyes off of him, but he allowed his eyes to drift down to your heaving tits which threatened to spill out of your tube top and bra, and then downwards to watch as your dainty fingertips and thumbs dared to graze his growing bulge. You fluttered your long, wispy eyelashes—your eyes dreamy and sleepy, but intoxicating nonetheless—and the words that flowed from your delicious, pink tongue into Harry’s entranced ears escaped your lips like they were silk ribbons caught in the breeze.

“Fine, Harry. Maybe I did let Max fuck me tonight…” Bluffing. Harry’s jaw tightened and you could see how hard he was clenching his teeth by how his veins by his temples were more visible. A smile was tugging on the corners of your mouth, but you didn’t want to blow it. So you continued, “…But I think what really got him going was when I told him I’m on birth control…” You grinned as your words drained the remaining seafoam green from his irises to make more room for his expansive pupils. Harry’s lips separated and his chest was rising and falling quickly. “…And you know what, I can’t really blame him…” you paused and reached your hand up to his head, gently combing your fingers through his soft, already-tousled curls. His hands were twitching and straining on the chair’s armrests. Then, dipping your head next to his ear and lowering to a whisper, you said, “…I like it raw.” 

Harry huffed through his nose and smacked his head back against the cushion of his chair before he softly breathed out, “Fuck me…” 

After that night, you’d conjured up a new fantasy where it would’ve been you and Harry curled up on the couch watching a movie marathon. Except in this scenario, you imagined sharing a blanket where all you wore was a skimpy little night dress as Harry spooned you from behind to keep you warm. And then, once you’d finally started dozing off in his arms, he’d lift the hem up and slowly glide himself back and forth against your pussy lips, coating himself with your dampness before eventually pushing inside of you so that you could also keep him warm. After all, it’s only fair that you share with your big brother.

.・゜゜・・゜゜・．.・゜゜・・゜゜・．.・゜゜・・゜゜・．.・゜゜

Harry’s shameless display of sin and indecency, jerking his dick off while you watched, left you with nothing but your soaked underwear, pulsing clit, and of course, questions. Was all that cum…for you? Your heart quickens as you rewind time in your mind for the thousandth time to admire your memory of Harry in his state of arousal. You think back further to how things had escalated to that point. You still can’t believe it. Harry had really yelled out for you just so you could be in the room when he…Jesus Christ! And what were you going to do once you got back home?! How could you act like nothing ever happened when you’d not only been denied an orgasm the other day, but then forced to watch Harry pleasure himself—to what seemed to have been you. Also, what was he hoping would come out of all this, anyway? No pun intended. What if you had a friend over and both of you had been at his door?! Ugh, nevermind. He would’ve loved having a bigger audience for his cocksure production.

Strangely enough, you feel both embarrassed yet incredibly powerful at the same time. Thinking over the specifics in your head pushes you to the conclusion that all of that cum had been for you. And, god, he asked you if you wanted to taste it. What if you’d actually accepted? Just a little taste, you think to yourself. Your mouth salivates as you imagine your lips wrapped around Harry’s sticky fingers and your tongue licking them clean—just like they had back in that laundry room; except your taste buds would only detect him. You envision your step brother holding your hair back so that you can lap up the remainder that had landed onto his laurels and all the way up to his butterfly tattoo. He made such a big mess of himself. If he put on the show just for you, why shouldn’t you give him the basic courtesy of cleaning him up afterwards? You catch yourself pouting at the realization that all of his delicious cum had gone to waste. What a shame. If only you’d been more grateful. He just wanted to share—GAH! NO, Y/N! That’s your STEP-BROTHER! Yeah, watching him bust one out as his hungry eyes devour you through his orgasm…well, that’s pretty fucked up as it is! He’s played plenty of pranks on you in the past. Surely, you can just pass this off as another one…? Yeah, right! You’d never be able to look him in the eye ever again. You wouldn’t be able to open his goddamn bedroom door ever again! At least not without picturing him laying back against his bed frame, his eyes all soft and sleepy, his hair messy and stuck to his forehead…and his big hand sliding up and down his lubed-up cock…then that hot, white fluid squirted out from his tip over and over again until his balls were drained.

Harry’s orgasm didn't just look intense, it most-definitely was. You knew it because his toes curled and flexed, his balls tightened, he almost choked on the air in his throat, and his legs were shaking by the time cum was shooting out of him. Every stroke was so deliberate and strategic. His fist would tighten around the head of his shaft and twist, and you saw how that made his hips thrust up off of the bed in reflex. The size of his load was impressive, and it raises your body temperature to fantasize how it’d feel to have it pumping inside of you. You remember studying him and memorizing each movement as if you were preparing yourself for a future occasion where it would be your hands doing all the stroking…but you keep having to tell yourself that you and Harry could never let things get that far. You’ll just use these mental notes on some other guy later, maybe Max? Nevertheless, that shocking performance of self-pleasure will be burned into your memory forever. You’re certain of it.

You wish you were disgusted. You should be. You shouldn’t have enjoyed it so much, but your body refused to react negatively to witnessing your step brother perform such lewd acts on himself. Honestly, all you want to do now is go home to the privacy of your bedroom and do the same to yourself. To use the events from earlier as your inspiration. Doctors recommend masturbation for stress relief all the time, don’t they? A therapist, however, would definitely have a problem with you fantasizing about fucking your step brother. After all, it’s not exactly the most conventional family dynamic.

Whatever, it doesn’t even matter. What matters is that seeing Harry masturbating had awakened something animalistic inside of you that you never knew was there in the first place. You didn’t know how much you wanted a—nay—wanted Harry’s big, thick, drippy, heavy, gorgeous cock to empty hot loads of cum so deep inside of you that it wouldn’t come out until a day later. Well, you didn’t know how badly you wanted him to specifically stuff your cunt full of his seed until right now.

As you walk out of the store with your shopping bag and receipt, you feel your phone buzz in your purse. You assume it must be your dad or step-mom checking in to see how things are at home. Lifting the screen up to your face, you’re immediately proven incorrect. The notification is not from your parents, but rather from Harry. You’re met with the contact photo of him paired with his message that reads: 

“where u go, baby sis? 💔”

You scoff at his patronizing and just slide your phone back into your purse so you can continue browsing the shops. You couldn’t successfully distract yourself from Harry if you were texting him…it’s not like you’ve been thinking about him and his beautiful dick nonstop since you first left the house or anything…

*grumble-grumble*

Amidst all of your depraved sexual fantasies and your attempts to reject your physical attraction to Harry, you’d forgotten to feed yourself.

Yet another reason why you should’ve taken his offer, your inner monologue teases. You just scrunch your nose at your own thoughts, and then you remember you have leftover pasta from last night in the fridge. The growl in your tummy only intensifies from the anticipation of eating the cheese-filled noodles for lunch. A vibration goes off in your purse, but you ignore it. You’re feeling extra irritated now that you’ve realized how hungry and horny you are. It’s a lethal combination. 

You make the desperate choice of buying an overpriced orange cream-sicle to hold you over for a bit—you actually started to feel lightheaded for a minute, there. As you’re sitting on a bench and sucking on the citrus sweetness, you take your phone out once again. There are more texts from Harry:

--12:30pm

“Miss u🥺👉👈” —12:39pm

“R u mad at me?”—12:45pm

“So u hate me n u want me 2 die😣” —1:07pm

Goddamnit. You huff a breath out your nostrils before sending a quick response. 

“Go play with your foreskin, loser.” — read 1:07pm

You flip your phone face-down on top of your lap and continue to slurp on your ice cream. A couple minutes later, another buzz alerts you to check your notifications. Surprise—it’s Harry.

“That’s not very nice >:| besides, u know I already did that today🙄”—1:12pm

“How could I forget? I’ve been scarred for life thanks to you and your sorry excuse for a penis.”—1:13pm

“I think u accidentally sent that to me…I’ll send it to Max and let him know ur thinking of him😌”—1:15pm

You grunt and shove your phone back into your purse. Suddenly, you come to realize that your overwhelming desire/disdain for your step brother combined with your aggressive famishment has given you the necessary amount of confidence to return home and face the idiot without giving a flying fuck about the fact that you watched him bust a nut. 

Of all people, Harry should be the one who’s embarrassed to look you in the eye after what he did. Why should you feel exposed when it was his bare cock and balls that were revealed to you in their entirety. Granted, Harry is quite gifted…but that’s beside the point!!! The point is that you are starving and you want those leftovers NOW! Harry can go fuck himself—Alone, this time!!!

.・゜゜・・゜゜・．.・゜゜・・゜゜・．.・゜゜・・゜゜・．.・゜゜

Once you pull up to your house, the only thing on your mind is that bowl of rich, buttery alfredo tortellini you’ve hidden in one of the vegetable drawers of the fridge. Diamonds are a girl’s best friend? Nah. Carbs are the ultimate ride-or-die when you’ve got mixed feelings about a guy. It doesn’t matter how many calories it is. You deserve it! You’ve had a long morning, and it was time for a tasty reward, goddamnit!

You open the door and slip your shoes off before making your merry way towards the kitchen, bags in-hand. The rich aroma of garlic and cheese dances its way into your nostrils and your heart immediately sinks. Your legs scurry themselves at a cartoonish speed towards the room where the smell is wafting out of. The kitchen island slows you down to a stop, your feet sliding against the hardwood floor. You drop your purse and shopping bag with a *clink* and a *plap*. You stand in place with your little hands balled into fists at your sides as you practically burn holes into your step brother’s face. He’s sitting atop one of the counter stools that’s placed opposite of you. Wearing only a pair of Calvin Klein boxer briefs and his cross necklace, you see the irony as remarkably twisted. Especially since he used his hand with the cross tattoo to perform such unholy deeds to himself.

Wonder what God thought about today’s Sunday morning semen brought to you by Harry ‘wanna taste?’ Styles, you fume internally.

Not only does it look as if he’s just gotten out of the shower, his hair damp and extra curly, and his tan skin a little dewy. But he’s sitting right in front of you, eating your leftover pasta—fresh out of the oven in its foil container, it seems. Your lunch that you’d been craving so desperately has been unfairly stolen from you. Harry just looks at you with his elbows resting on the marble and stabs into another steaming tortellino with his fork before swirling it around in the air, blowing on it, and popping it straight into his mouth—his teeth scraping against the fork in the process. 

You feel that your skin is red hot and your hands are shaking. Your jaw is clenched, your teeth grinding together in frustration. This man has no goddamn shame. None whatsoever. Just when you’re about to give him hell, he’s sliding your shopping bag towards himself with his foot and is digging through your new purchases. “Oooh! What do we have here?” Harry hums mischievously.

Your eyes widen. You jump at him and you practically claw at his snooping hands like a feral cat. What you just bought at the mall was none of Harry’s business! Wasn’t it enough that he was consuming your food right in front of you?! “Give me that!” You yell, internally debating whether or not it would be helpful to use your teeth as a weapon in this situation. You decide against it for both of your sakes. You don’t want Harry to think you’re giving him a hickey—you know he’d use that against you in any way he could.

In the end, you aren’t strong enough to fight him off, and he yanks out the first thing he finds and holds it up above your head to an unreachable height(for you). If you were 10, you would try jumping for it, but you’re in your 20’s and you have a set of tits that unfortunately obey the laws of physics. The last thing Harry needs is your boobs bouncing in his face at the same time as he’s dangling your new pair of red, lacy, crotchless panties from his finger. And so you huff and back away with your arms crossed, reluctantly accepting your fate. Harry, now standing like a building beside you, lowers the piece of lingerie to his eye level so he can study them closely. He smirks devilishly once he discovers the special opening.

“Y/N-Y/M/N!” He clutches at the pearls around his throat mockingly with his other hand and gasps. If you rolled your eyes any harder, they would roll out of their sockets. You’re completely out of patience at this point. You’ve dealt with quite enough in the past 72 hours, and you could use a fucking break. 

Just when you thought you’d gotten the final nail in the coffin, Harry swaps the underwear in the bag for a different item. Something bigger. Something that has discreet enough packaging to be mostly disguised, but the logo on the front of the box somewhat gives away what it is…

“Oooh! What’s Tracy’s Dog?” He grins, shaking the ominous black box next to his ear. “How ‘bout we have a lil’ look-see, hm?” 

You sigh, “Harry…please.” He looks at you and smirks again. He seems to be amused by your new toy, but you’re not in the mood for his shenanigans right now. These were meant to be private items that no one except you were to have known about. It’s ruined when your step-brother is in on the secret, because now it’ll just be an on-going joke that he’ll never let you live down until something better(worse) takes its place. This is the worst day ever. You can’t wait until classes start again in the fall so you can spend as much time away from that pest of a man as possible without your step-mom feeling offended by your constant absence. Your go-to excuse would be studying—and even if you weren’t busy with school, you’d find something to study if anyone in your family caught word that you had free time. You can’t fucking wait to get out of this house.

Harry lifts the cover off of the box to reveal its contents. A neon pink vibrator—with some…extra advantages, as well. He chuckles and picks up the manual, reading out, “Clit-sucking g-spot vibrator…woah, that sounds like a good time!” 

Your eyes narrow at the man, hiding that you’re suddenly aware that he’s only wearing his underwear and that he’s also sporting a little bit of a semi. However, you’re trying your damned hardest not to look directly at it. It’s peeking out from the edge of your peripherals. In the process of fighting against temptation, your mind reverts back to a couple hours prior…when Harry’s hair was wet with sweat. His skin was shiny and glossy, but not nearly as reflective and oiled up as his erection. The sounds keep echoing through your ears. Shlick, shlick, shlick. Your step brother shamelessly voiced his ecstasy to you as you stood in the doorway and admired him in a stunned silence. When you abandoned Harry in his post-orgasm haze, you’d initially planned upon seeking an innocent distraction to entertain your erotically fiendish train-of-thought—anything that would help get your mind off of what you’d just witnessed. That plan failed once you’d arrived at the mall and found yourself exploring the shelves inside Adult World. An employee there recommended the Tracy’s Dog toy that you bought and told you that it would “change your life.” 

Desperate for anything that would occupy your time for the next several days stuck in the house with Harry, you yanked your credit card out to pay for it. The nice cashier then threw in a complimentary pair of crotchless panties and you were sent on your way. Your previous plan to seek an innocent distraction morphed into purchasing a g-spot vibrator that also had a clit-sucker on the opposite end—and in your mind, the new ‘plan’ was to go home, wash the new toy, charge the toy whilst convincing Harry to go see a movie with his friends or some shit…you’d play with the new toy until it “changed your life” and then you’d end your activities with the leftover tortellini. It sounded like a great night. 

It’s too bad Harry had to go and fuck it all up for you right off the bat. Now, you’re no longer sexually frustrated—you’re furious. You’ve had quite enough. Snatching the box from his hands, you shove at his bare chest and whine, “Harryyy!” He stumbles backwards a step or so, not expecting you to get physical with him. “Oi, ‘the fuck’s your problem?” His brows crease, him obviously puzzled by your sudden outburst. You’re upset, but you’re just as surprised at yourself as he is. You’ve never really pushed Harry before. Sure, you two are siblings—step siblings, but for the short time that you’ve lived in the same household, the two of you have always stuck to the verbal-type of quarreling.

In a way, even though he’s twice as strong as you are and you hardly used any force on him with that shove, you now almost want to apologize. But then you remember that you’re not in the wrong here. Harry is. 

“My problem? You wanna know what my problem is, Harry?!” You raise your voice for emphasis. “You’re my fucking problem!” You start to step away towards the stairs, but you stop for a moment just to add, “And put that thing away, would you?! For Christ’s sake…” As you say this, you point to his crotch. Harry looks down and his hands smack over the front of his underwear to poorly cover his full-on boner which its unsheathed head was actually threatening to poke out from the waistband of the briefs. His cheeks flush a dark shade of pink as if he’s embarrassed, but you find it ridiculous that a mostly-concealed stiffy makes him blush when he’d had no problem performing as your personal little camboy just a few hours earlier.

You take your bag and purse and run up the stairs to your bedroom before slamming the door closed. At this moment, you wish your door could lock. Alas, you have to make-do trusting that your perverted step brother won’t barge in on you changing, or worse…

.・゜゜・・゜゜・．.・゜゜・・゜゜・．.・゜゜・・゜゜・．.・゜゜

It’s been one day since the thing happened, and tensions have finally dissipated somewhat between you and Harry. You’re still not happy with him—for several reasons—but he hasn’t added anything more to the list, which you see as a silver lining. He’d actually ordered from your favorite Italian place and replaced your leftover tortellini with a fresh new order of it. To ensure that you wouldn’t worry about him repeating his offense from yesterday, he ordered two entrees for himself so that he’d have plenty of food left over and wouldn’t have any reason to touch yours. 

You’re honestly delighted by Harry’s kind gesture. It’s unexpected, for sure. But a welcome surprise, regardless. After the two of you finish eating, you insist upon doing the dishes. It’s not like there’s much for you to do, but you want to make it known to him that you’re appreciative of his olive branch offering.

You’ve been in the kitchen for a while now—probably around 30 minutes—just cleaning out the fridge, dusting, scrubbing the counters, all that junk. You don’t know how much time has passed until the sun has finally set and you need to flick the lights on to see what you’re doing. You’re just about finished, washing your hands in the sink, when you feel a pair of hands grip around your squishy hips. “Sup, lil sis.” A voice hums deeply against the shell of your ear. The combination of unanticipated touch and sound makes you instinctually jump. “AHHH! Harry!” You gasp. You grab a towel to dry your hands and then you turn around to face him. A stupid smirk covers his stupid, cocky face. And yet you can’t help that tingling warmth that burns down your abdomen and zings its way straight to your sensitive clit. 

You haven’t seen this smirk since he unboxed your magical clit-sucking vibrator contraption. It’s still in its box under your bed—charging, of course—because you’ve wanted to try it out when you have the house to yourself. You have the tendency to say some dirty things out loud when you touch yourself, and so you’d really like for Harry to be as far away from you as possible…even though you know he’s exactly who you’ll be thinking about, anyway…

This was so bad.

All you want right now is to jump up onto the counter and tug Harry in by his hair until his head is trapped between your thighs. The ache is killing you. Your step brother, of all people, is the one man you want to rail you against every surface in this goddamn house. You don’t care if the neighbors see. You don’t care if your parents find out. You just want your step brother’s cum. It’s yours. He’s made that clear to you. His cum is all for you. All for his pretty little step sis. 

As you stand trapped with your bum pressed against the sink, his hands on either side of you, Harry speaks to you once more. “How’d it taste?” 

You gulp at his words and hesitate. What’s he talking about? You never got to—ohh! He means…dinner…damn, your brain was really fucked. 

“G-good, thank you.” Your voice ends with a nervous giggle. His eyes scan down your body before nodding and running a hand through his hair. “Hmm. I’m glad. M’sorry, again, by the way…” He bites on the inside of his lip shyly, looking genuinely apologetic for making you upset. You give him a forgiving smile and rub his upper arm and shoulder with one of your hands. “It’s ok. It’s my fault, too…” You humor him. “…I should really learn how to share with my big brother...” As your fingers caress and squeeze onto his muscular bicep, you blink your eyes up at him in faux-innocence. Harry’s lips part and his nostrils flare.

Your touch, no matter how light or seemingly harmless, has a serious effect on the man. You can reckon because simply grazing your fingers down his taught, tatted skin past the sleeve of his shirt—making prolonged, direct contact—has triggered his feral reflexes. Without a moment of delay, he’s flipped you around, pressed you face down against the countertop, and has your wrists held in one of his hands at the small of your back. He nudges your legs apart with his knees so that his other hand can slide in between them. 4 of his fingers massage up and down your covered slit in a swirling motion, applying more pressure when he knows he’s reached your clit. You’re just stuck in his grasp, your ass wiggling and grinding against his hand as you moan and beg. “Mmhh…Please, Harry…so good…feels so fucking good…oh my god!”

You feel him squeeze your clothed clit with his thumb and forefinger as he speaks against your ear, “Ooh, yeah? You like it when your step brother touches you like this?” Then he releases you before spanking you on your pussy and then rubbing it with his fingers again afterwards. 

“F-fuck—yes! I love it,” you gasp.

Harry yanks you up by your hair, one hand holding your ponytail while the other still has your wrists manually bound. “I knew it. Knew you were holding out f’me.” He drags you stumbling over to the couch in the living room and positions you onto all fours atop the cushions. Now properly situated for him, you turn your head back to look at him. You can feel how dark your eyes have gotten by how narrowed your focus is—all you see is Harry. 

Keeping eye contact with you, he smooths his palms up and down your ass. Your leggings are thin enough for him to squeeze at the fleshiness of which he immediately takes advantage of. You moan, shaking your ass and hips back to further entice him. “Shit…” he pants out. You giggle and do it again which in turn earns you a hard spank onto your right ass cheek. You immediately stop your taunting. Harry grabs you by your hair, wrapping it around his fist and pulling you up to his chest with one swift yank. “We’re not just playing around anymore, Y/N…” Harry grunts in your ear. With his opposite hand, he gropes onto one of your breasts causing you to whine and arch your back at his unforgiving, heavy touch. He doesn’t seem to be concerned with the possibility of leaving marks and bruises all over your body. And you aren’t either. You’re enjoying this. Your desperate, throbbing cunt is aching for more of your step brother’s touch. It’s sick. It’s depraved. Your friends, parents, distant relatives—they’d be disgusted if they saw what was about to transpire between two step siblings. 

Your thoughts on the matter?

Let them fucking watch.

Harry releases you and you drop down onto your hands. With quick and reckless fingers, he pulls your leggings over the swell of your ass, tugging back and forth to get them down your thighs to reveal your new red, lacy, crotchless thong. Your pussy lips glisten with arousal. Harry chuckles to himself once he’s rid you of your pants and smooths his hands up and down your bare ass. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this…” He admits with a hard slap against your right ass cheek. You face forward and blush to yourself, too shy to openly share the same truth. Although, you assume you’re making it pretty obvious to him that the feeling is mutual. “…When I fingered you a few days ago, I was so close to just fucking you right there against the machines…so close, Y/N.”

Before you can even make an attempt at a delayed response, he’s dipping his face between your legs and licking a fat stripe up your slit, stealing your wet arousal onto his tongue for his own selfish quench. You suck in a shaky breath and giggle, wiggling your ass back against his face. He groans and spanks you on your left cheek, then the right, then the left, then both at the same time, and then he grabs at your hips and pulls you closer towards him as he shoves his mouth and nose deeper into your drippy cunt and slurps you up. “Oh my god!” You choke out as you struggle to find something to solidly grip onto. 

Harry pushes his sweatpants and boxer briefs down, his solid cock already weeping with precum and begging for a wet hole to fuck. His face is still buried between your legs when you take a peek at him from down below, your head upside down, and you see his package in all its beauty. You’re so ready to take him inside you, but you need to take care of something first. You whine, “W-wait, Harry, wait!”

He halts, pulls himself out from the comfort of your squishy thighs, then returns your gaze with his confused one. “What?” He slurs, his voice wet and drooly.

You shift your body so that you’re completely facing him now. “C-can I…?” Your thighs instinctively squeeze together before the words can even come out of you, and you let out a pathetic whimper. Harry licks his lips and wipes his chin with the back of his hand. “Can you…what?” His brow quirks up. 

You don’t know if it’s a good time to ask this, but you’ve already started asking, so you might as well finish. You doubt he’ll refuse…but you also worry that you won’t get fucked if he grants you this request. What if this moment is the only chance for your desperate needs to be met?! 

“Can I have a taste? J-just a lil’ one?” Your eyes flicker down to his bouncing erection that he’s now caught onto and is slowly stroking.

Silence. All except for the soft, wet rubbing sound coming from Harry carefully jerking his own cock whilst you’re sitting pretty on your knees with your hands laced together behind you. 

You sigh and bow your head, attempting to hide behind your ponytail due to feeling embarrassed to have given such a silly request. But you know better than to sulk and complain after not getting your way. So you use your cuteness to guilt him instead. 

“Please, Harry?” You’re really playing it up. Tears have actually welled up in your eyes to add to your act.

Harry blinks several times as if he had just been stuck staring into space for a moment. He’s dumbfounded, never having any woman beg to suck his dick before in his entire life. It’s a welcome surprise, and he shakes his head with a slight grin tugging on his lips as he responds to you. “Fuck yes, you can...go ‘head, love… sorry…fuckin’ hell…”

You practically jump up and happily clap your hands together, smiling stupidly at your success. Of course you realize that he’d only been floating around in his own little world when you asked the first time, and it wasn’t at all that he was refusing to grant your wish. Regardless, you feel that Harry can’t resist you when you beg. Looks like you’ll have to use this power against him forever.

You take his flushed dick in your hand, replacing his, and slowly pump him a couple of times before lowering your face down to its level. You keep your eyes on Harry’s as you stick your tongue out and flick it against the exposed tip, tasting the small bead of precum that was leaking from it. It’s salty. Musky. It’s Harry. You moan, nursing onto the tip with strengthening suction as if to be begging for just one more drop. He hisses and grabs onto your ponytail once again. You release your lips from him with a pop, giggling due to the knowledge that you’ve finally got a hold on this man. Then you begin swirling your tongue around the entire tip before wrapping your lips around it and sucking once again, but gently and sloppily this time, drooling and dousing his cock with your spit. Then you softly drag your glossy mouth up and down the underside of his cock like it’s a melty ice cream cone. Harry swears under his breath and takes his phone out of his pocket. He slides his thumb over the screen, opens the camera app and he clicks the record button. Your eyes flicker up towards the lens and you smile before sticking your tongue out flat and smacking Harry’s cock down onto it several times. 

You’ve never been recorded doing such lewd things before, but you trust Harry. You know how protective Harry is over you, so there’s no way in hell he’d let anyone see something that’s only meant for him. This is just a dirty little secret that you’ll always share as step siblings. You guess it’s something that’s bringing you closer together. Or maybe you’re both just sick and disgusting.

You then hold onto the base of him with both hands and dribble a good amount of spit down onto him. Your fingers smear it all over his shaft until he’s completely covered, and you begin pumping him with one of your dainty hands as best as you can. You beam up at the camera and to Harry again, biting your lip, and you bow your head back down to lick all the way up from his balls to his slit. Harry pets his hand through the long, silky hair of your ponytail. The gesture feels loving and kind. You love the thought that he’ll save this video on his phone to watch later. You love to think about him thinking about you. And so you want to make a show out of this as much as you can before Harry can’t take it any longer and makes you stop.

You take his cock and wet it a bit with some extra saliva before bobbing your head up and down, letting it slide against your tongue over and over again slowly. Eventually, this starts to get a little messy, but nothing too bad. Your spit is just leaking a little from the corners of your mouth. However, you decide to kick it up a notch and take him deeper. You bob your head on him so that the head of his cock nudges your throat several times in a row until you are forced to let go and are gasping for air. Drool is dripping from your chin, your cheeks and lashes are wet with tears, and your eyes are clouded with pure lust as you stare up at Harry as he half-assedly points his phone camera at you and gawks at the sight before him simultaneously. His eyebrows are furrowed and his mouth is gaped. This has been much more than just a little taste by this point. It doesn’t seem as though either of you could give a shit, as both of your minds are completely empty and neither one has hesitated or slowed down.

You finish the ‘performance’ by slapping your cheeks with Harry’s dick, still staring up at him as you do, and he twitches in your hand. The power you hold over him causes your sticky arousal to drip down your thighs and you end up rubbing them together to hold yourself over. Harry ends the recording, tosses his phone onto the carpet, and tugs on the back of his t-shirt, pulling it off. You resume your previous position on all fours. Your ass is stuck up high and perfectly accessible for him as he aligns himself up with your core. He rubs himself up and down your pussy to coat himself with your drippy essence. “I’m gonna fuck this cunt whenever and wherever I want…can’t be wasting my cock on any other slag…it should only go in here.” As he pronounces the last word, he pushes himself inside you all in one thrust. Your body arches in retaliation and you grasp onto the couch cushions with your shaky fingers. Harry wastes no time to let you adjust to his size and stretches you out by aggressively smacking his hips against your ass without mercy. It’s like you’ve been thrown into the middle of a race and it’s impossible to keep up. Your body is pounded into the couch until your knees fail to support you and you’re being yanked up to lean over the couch’s arm by your hair so that Harry can continuously bottom out until his balls slap perfectly against your clit with every plunge. And Harry’s not a silent ‘lover’ by any means. He’s proudly announcing his pleasure to every brick of this house to hear. You also learn how degrading his mouth can get as he continuously steals more and more of your innocence.

“Shit…your body was designed f’me, y’know that? Just f’me…just for your step brother to use as his little cocksleeve…” he seethes into your ear after having shoved his entire length into you and pausing for you to flutter and tremble from your insides out.

Your cunt is insanely wet, and you can feel that you’ve completely soaked through the cushions already. 

(You’ll have to figure out how to handle that later…)

It’s as if Harry’s cock makes your hole splash every time it enters it. You’ve gotten to the point where you don’t know how much time has gone by, you can hardly breathe, and you honestly can’t tell whether or not you’ve basically just been orgasming over and over for the past several minutes straight. He’s pounding into your cervix so hard that it’s painful and you’re starting to whimper helplessly. Thank God your cats have chosen to mind their own business this time and are upstairs sleeping, because they’d probably develop some sort of innate hatred towards Harry after witnessing something of which, to the uncorrupted eyes of a domesticated animal, definitely looks violent in a bad way. What a time that would be trying to explain to your parents why your cats have been defending you with their very lives, triggered by even the smallest glance from your step brother. If this ever happens again, you’ll need to make sure it’s done in guaranteed-complete privacy.

You can feel hot tears streaming down your face from the force of Harry’s thrusts that have bruised his cock head against your cervix, but you don’t want any of it to stop. “Fuck, baby. Love it when you squeeze me like tha’…” he groans, gripping tightly onto your fleshy hips and lifting them up each time he slams his lower half into you. The atmosphere is tainted with the mixture of your sexes. The only consistent sounds are your gasping breaths and the *slap-slap-slap* of your jiggling ass clapping against Harry’s pelvis. 

As you’re leant over the couch armrest, the carpet tickles your out-stretched fingertips and you feel braindead. Your thoughts are nonexistent—the only matter you can internally comprehend is satisfying the man connected to you. All you want is his cum; you want to be filled to the brim with it. You want to be overflowing with your step brother’s sticky seed so that you both can watch it drip out of your fertile cunt once he eventually has to pull out of you. 

His thrusts are now becoming stuttered and shallow, losing their original relentless rhythm. You choke on a wet gasp as you feel your step brother’s rough hands grip onto your ass before harshly spanking it. Harry drags out a growling groan and pulls you back up to his chest by your ponytail, then wraps his other hand around your throat, still fucking you on his cock. You hold onto the arm that’s holding you up by your neck as he seethes into your ear, “I was gonna cum all over your pretty face, my pet…” *slap-slap-slap* “…But now I think…” *slap-slap* “…I’ll fill up this tight little pussy, instead…” You moan loudly, your head falling back to rest against Harry’s shoulder as he continues to sloppily pound into your slick hole. He bites your ear and slides his choking hand down to your loosely-covered breasts to tease and grope them during your final moments of intimacy. He flicks your nipples with both of his thumbs as you both reach the highest peak together—you having reached it for the upteenth time this session. Harry cries out, his hands now completely circled around your torso and holding you down onto his squirting cock. You’re rocking your hips forwards and backwards, your internal walls pulsing and milking him of every last drop until he’s shaking from overstimulation. Still having one left in you, you reach your hand down between your legs and circle your clit, swiveling atop of Harry’s un-softening cock. He  shakily guides you by your hips, whimpering and gasping at the intensity he’s feeling in his extremely sensitive organ. Shockingly, as you’re fucking yourself to another orgasm on his cock, you feel a couple more small jets of cum shoot out inside of you; and as you look back at Harry, he’s a sweaty, whiny, weak, mess of a boy who’s been milked of all he’s got. You giggle, grinning victoriously at him before clenching your cunt and pulling off of him—attempting to keep all his cum inside of you. Some of it drips out, but you shove it back inside with your fingers. Harry watches with glossy eyes, rosy cheeks, and baited breath. 

You steal his boxer briefs off of his calves and slip them on over your crotchless panties. Harry is laying back against the couch cushions, his glistening cock throbbing and slowly softening against his abdomen. Before you scamper upstairs to change your sweaty clothes, you give Harry one last goodnight present.

You grab your phone from the coffee table and click record. Then, you kneel down onto the floor between Harry’s legs, pointing the camera at his nude and spent form. You giggle to yourself and take his cock in your free hand. The camera picks up Harry’s face as he jumps, his eyes widening and his abdomen tightening in defense. You flip to the front camera to record yourself as you lick the remnants of both you and Harry combined off of his still-stiff dick, and you make sure to swirl your tongue around the tip before giving it a good suck—releasing him with a *pop*. 

“Ahhh, fuck!” He whines.

You end the recording and kiss his swollen erection tenderly, making him squirm and giggle. You smile at his newly-expressed vulnerability. Harry realizes his mistake and straightens his posture. “Hm…uh…send that to me later, yeah?” 

You smirk at him. “Sure thing, loser.” With that, you stand up and take off up the stairs with your phone.

.・゜゜・・゜゜・．.・゜゜・・゜゜・．.・゜゜・・゜゜・．.・゜゜

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“Sup, lil sis.” Harry says deeply in your ear, startling you as you’ve been washing dishes in the sink for a while now, having been completely alone in the kitchen. You jump out of instinct. “AHHH! Harry!” You gasp. You grab a towel to dry off your hands and then turn around to face him. A stupid smirk covers his stupid, cocky face, but you can’t help the low tingling you feel trickling down your abdomen and stopping at that special place between your legs.

Your parents—his mom and your dad—have been overseas in the UK attending a wedding on the Styles side of the family, leaving you and Harry at home to take care of the house and the cats.

You and Harry technically got along just fine. You made your parents assume so, at least. But behind closed doors, Harry was a constant pest. He’s always gone out of his way to antagonize you. Whether it was sneaking up to you and spooking the living hell out of you, or making gross, perverted comments that only you could hear, he loved to piss you off. You slowly got used to it over the past couple of years, learning that no response was the best response when it comes to Harry and his big mouth. However, sometimes it could be really hard to ignore him even a little bit.

It's been especially difficult for you as the two of you have spent way too much time alone in the house since your dad and step-mom left for the airport. They’ve been gone for only 2 out of their 10-day trip, but you were nearing your limits prematurely.

The first night, he bid his evening ado’s with, “Alright…I think it’s time that me and my three pretty pussies go to bed.” If you weren’t already used to his lewd language, you’d have kicked him in the balls right after the words left his mouth. But this time, you just sat there on the couch and stretched your arms up before picking up one of your cats and heading towards your bedroom. You acted unfazed.

Alas, Harry thought he was so funny. The following morning at around 11am, he called out your name from his bedroom. You were somewhat concerned by how late he’d slept in because he typically preferred to start his days early with an obnoxiously loud work out—beginning by running up and down the stairs and doing push-ups right outside your bedroom door for 10 minutes straight. The absence of your usual, unsolicited morning alarm was pleasant at first. You woke up gently instead of abruptly and you didn’t have to dodge out of Harry’s way when making a break for the bathroom across the hall. Everything was smooth-going. But that obviously began to feel odd…something wasn’t right…maybe Harry was sick, you thought. And surely enough, as you were thinking back to whether he’d touched any of your food within the past 24 hours, his voice echoed from his room, down the hall, and all the way down the stairs to where you were standing at the kitchen island.

“Y/NNN!!!”

What the hell?! Just when you thought you were gonna have a decent day without any interruptions…ugh!

You trudged up the stairs and knocked on his door. “Uh, Harry…?” You announced from the outside of the door. He then replied soon afterwards, “…Yeah…” It sounded like a groan, like he was in pain, or something. You’re squeamish around blood, so you were extremely hesitant to come to his rescue if he’d injured himself in any way. He could be a whiny little bastard, though. So if he’d gotten hurt, he would’ve been throwing much more of a hissy fit than a little groan. Wait…What if he hit his head?! You panicked due to your mind assuming the worst.

Slowly pushing open the door, you peeked inside to check on him. What you saw was not at all the image you were expecting. Not even remotely close. There he was, spread out with his covers pushed down to his feet, his eyes shut and lips parted. One hand was resting on his chest as the other slicked itself up and down his naked length. It was all slippery and shiny. Each stroke made this filthy, wet, snapping sound. It looked as though he’d been at it for a while, as his cock looked painfully hard and his pace was agonizing. He looked to have been edging for the past 2 hours, at least. You just stood there and watched him. It was as if your legs wouldn’t allow you to leave that spot. Your eyes just devoured him in all his vulnerability—studying his rhythm, the noises he made, and the way his tattooed chest, arms, and abdomen flexed sporadically. He was beautiful. Not only was he mesmerizing to watch, but his pants and moans sent electric currents through your lower stomach. You felt sensitive. Similarly to the way the head of Harry’s gorgeous cock throbbed, so did your hidden clit.

His pace grew more desperate, more intentional, more calculated—no longer was he just lazily jerking off. He wanted to cum. Before you could even realize how much time had passed by with you just gawking at him at the doorway, his eyes blinked open and he looked right at you. He was already well-aware of your presence. He knowingly invited you to his little show. It was like he was holding it in for hours just to save it all for you. As his eyes locked onto yours, they refused to break contact. His brow furrowed with intense pleasure and he moaned out, “…Fuuuck…”

You were frozen in place. It wouldn’t even matter if you could move and get the hell out of there because you’d already witnessed it all. Well, almost. Harry’s breathing quickened and so did his sliding fist. He was close.

“…ah, shit…I’m gonna cum…I’m…I’m gonna cum, baby…”

A whimper escaped your lips and your thighs clamped together. The little noises he made merged together into one solid string of groans and profanities, his hips thrusting up to fuck his hand roughly as ropes of white cum spurted out of his cock and all over him. He kept cumming until his body shook from overstimulation, his eyes slowly flickering back and forth between you and his hand throughout the entire finale.

A giant smirk washed over his face after he’d taken his fingers and swiped up some of the warm, sticky cum that coated his glossy skin. He held his hand up as if to gesture an offering towards you and spoke, “…Wanna taste?” Your eyes widened, and you felt the skin of your cheeks heat up. You’d just been a voyeur to your step-brother’s morning masturbation session. To say you were humiliated would be an understatement. How would you ever live this one down? How could you ever live something like this down?

You had no clue what to say to him, what to do at that moment. And so you just pulled his door to a slamming close and bolted down the stairs and out the door. You got in your car and drove to the mall. Retail therapy seemed distracting enough for you to temporarily forget about what just fucking happened.

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Read Part 2 Here

Oofta🥵 well, you know what to do! Let me know what you wanna read next, if you want more parts, or something completely different. Just give it to me, baby 😜😘

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