Step Bro “Both of your nipples are really hard right now, I can see them through your shirt!” S17:E1

The sun beat down on the grubby office, its fading carpets and tattered blinds doing little to keep out the sweltering Florida heat. expendable secretary #367, depreciatingly known to most as Clapton, dragged herself in, her feet aching in fuck-me pumps. It wasn’t even 8am. She sighed as she caught sight of her new stepbrother, Rake, sprawled over the only halfway decent chair in the joint, his legs splayed open in that unselfconscious, arrogant way young men seemed to master at birth.

Clapton narrowed her eyes. Had the little cock warmer been painting his nails? Delicate fingers flicked briefly through some papers before one long, pale, index finger lingered first and foremost on a specific invoice. Rake’s eyes flicked open languidly. “Hi there, chicklet. Grandpa have you running around pulling a rickshaw again today?” Rake smirked, turning a page just to shove his nose into her business. Her breasts constricted, for just a cam-briolett. What was this butterlipped baby cumbaby doing in her office? Had the corporate overlords decided that even small personal spaces were completely off-limits now? She felt her nipples tightening, but tried not to show her consternation.

Her attempts at maintaining decorum swiftly dwindled, though. Clamping one hand over her lips, she delivered an equally furious glare and a coy gaze as Rake innocently went. “You act almost offended, darlin’, but seriously, I’m just sayin’…ebony warrior women probably chop off a woody slopefreak’s disk if his sequins all his prick’s gotta you stomped on ’em!” Peripherally, Clapton was observing her “I’m at work, you infant pervert!” clap. So why the fuck was he there then? Just to get at her, like that little shit of a bro kadrevan?

Doubtful. Glaring harder, she rounded on Rake. “Really, kid? I told Dad I’d buy the plane tickets myself. There’s no need…” She trailed off as he proved her words by flashing the tickets at her, letting his fingers linger so he could slowly peel the tickets up to the ceiling? Over and over? As if her denial were slimy, even though they were just business class plane tickets?

“What’s going on?” Rake demanded, voice between clipped and mock. She felt her makeup starting to sweat, her face reddening as she wheeled on him. “Really, bro? bills more pressing bills more practical. Gotta commit only commitment coming!” A discreet text alert pinged, and Clapton glanced down, looking covertly at her front. Just Grindr – some muscled fuckhead wanted to smother her holes, yadda yadda.

Rake tsk-tked as she checked the notification, his pure blue eyes glinting in the dimness of the tiny office while the movements his fingers did under the shade’ afterward’ service it’ her on over splayed fingers were distractedly reading her ‘rule book’. His words had been casual but… a little too casual. The texts from Grindr pinged again, demanding hot and horny girls to meet up when stated, and she snorted in annoyance, swiping them away. “I don’t consent to this!” Clapton growled through her teeth. “Please, Rake – go find yourself a beaver oral and leave me alone.” the muscles across his boyish face melted quickly into a unfettered arrogant tantrum just to remind her he was being condescending and he wasn’t done. “you are at home!” And next to her left foot, she saw her eyes were tired out o the rest, fighting off a yawn. He was bringing this up now. When she was anxious and sticky and grumpy, and just wanted to go home. Rake smirked at her curiously, letting his photos flutter in the wind out of curiosity when she put her hand over them.

“What the fuck, Stoopid?!” she spat, snatching the tickets back and shoving them into her cleavage. The way the jerk’s eyes tracked the motion would have set her off again, but she was too moist to care. How could this coochwaffle get her so wet?

“Shit, you’re right,” she breathed, fingers shifting to pinch her nipples until they were both diamond-hard through her shirt. She arched her back, making sure Rake got a perfect view. “maybe I do need a bigger dick, huh? Maybe I should let a kink-ass bad boy just… shove my face down on a thick slab of fuckrod, over and over, until I learn my place.”

Rake gaped at her like he couldn’t believe his cumbanion. She rolled her eyes, pushing her tits together with one hand while the other fought her way into her panties. Her clit was already poking out from its hood, already weeping with desperation for some kind of release. “I’m not stupid,” she hissed. “Do I need to… show you… Just so you can wrap your dribbling dick around my ovulating ovaries and ruin me for any other lovers? Is that it? Basking corruptly at her rambling with a more contorted slivered expression while he masturbates out of pure mischief?