"Stop," she said, pushing his arm away hard. She was seconds away from cumming. He pulled out of her, and she lay limp on the bed, heaving. He laid down on top of her, his bare thighs pressing against hers.

She could feel his thick cock, its hard tip ever-so-slightly touching her own throbbing wetness. Sasha inched downwards, until he started to part her outer petals. It was like teetering at the edge of a precipice, and only her own anxiety about the unknown was keeping her from taking the long, hot plunge.

"Wait--how many girls have you been with?" She had never heard her own voice straining with so much anguish.

"Ten," he whispered.

"Okay," she breathed. She couldn't decide if that was a lot. Just that she wanted him to take her, right now. He hesitated. The tip of his cock was pressed into her part way, resting between her outer petals, and the feeling sent waves of agony coursing up her body. 'Fuck me now!' she almost screamed out loud.

"What about you?"

"What?" Her voice came out less than a whisper, just a tiny rush of air.

"How many guys?" He kissed her eyelids.

"None. I'm a virgin."

He kissed her, and she kissed him back with reckless abandon. Their mouths moved as if they were one. His tongue nudged hers one last time before he pulled away, and it made her stomach feel like it was plunging down an elevator shaft.

He grabbed her waist and finally pushed into her. His cock strained against her hymen, then popped through and plunged deep inside her. She was deflowered, conquered and gloriously filled to the limit with her stepbrother's thick, hard rod.

He took her slowly, and every languorous plunge was like riding a slow, hot tidal wave of dirty ecstasy. She thought it was supposed to hurt the first time, not feel magnificent like this. She closed her legs around him, lovingly taking in the way his body rocked into hers, delivering his hot stabs of pleasure. When he slowed down and held her for a second, she could feel his breath panting hard against her neck. Even that made her moan; if he had just sat there it could have made her cum. She never thought her senses could be heightened like this. And he was so bad, the way he had overwhelmed her and taken her.

"Does it hurt?" he breathed.

"Go harder, baby."

He pushed deeply into her, filling her to the point that she feared her pussy would burst or fail her.  She grabbed his muscular ass and tried to keep him there, buried deep, all the way inside her. He pulled away and started to fuck her harder, plunging in deeply every time.

"Harder, faster" she begged, in a whisper. She felt like the air was being forced out of her lungs with every plunging thrust. It felt so good, and she just wanted him to do it harder. He gripped her thighs and pummeled her savagely. She wailed, delirious with pleasure. He plundered her completely, taking her for a long ride before he finally slowed down. Her hands explored his body feverishly as he fucked her frantically. He was close to cumming now, too.  All she wanted was to soar off the orgasmic cliff with him.

He fucked her, push after agonizing push, his body shaking. With one final thrust he pushed into her, a strangled gasp escaping his lips. Sasha came at the same moment his warm seeds came flooding into her.

It was like nothing she had ever experienced. She had never thought that cumming while impaled on a cock would feel this good. Her whole body was being squeezed, again and again until she was limp, her mind floating somewhere up into the clouds. She rolled luxuriously in his bed, her body taking the sheets with her. Her arm flopped over onto Tom's chest. She wanted him to hold her, to be close to him as she enjoyed riding this long descent of weightlessness.  A moment later she heard footsteps coming down the hall towards the room.

"Tom?" she heard a man's voice from behind the door. "Are you in there?"

"Just a second, dad!" Tom said, scrambling to find his clothes. Sasha grabbed hers and sprinted for the bathroom. Tom hurried in breathlessly behind her, pulling on his shirt. "I was showing you my skis, and you had to pee," he hissed.

"Okay," Sasha whispered anxiously, smoothing her hair out and tying it back. Her heart was pounding. Were they about to get caught? Tom kissed her, and the moment dragged on, second after wonderful second. He kissed her once again before heading out the door.

She could over-hear Tom talking to his dad. She peed, washed her hands, and looked herself over in the mirror, trying to regain her composure. She then opened the bathroom door and walked back into Tom's bedroom. Tom and his dad were looking at his skis, and Tom was explaining something technical about them.

"Hey," she said, "I'm Sasha."

"Dan," the man said and smiled warmly, shaking her hand. He looked like an older version of Tom, a little shorter and paunchier.

"I was just showing them to Sasha," Tom said. "She's excited to learn how to ski."

"Uh huh," his dad nodded, throwing Tom a suspicious glance.

****

Sasha looked for any clue in her mother's face: Were they busted?

It would be unfair if they were, because what she had done last night had felt so right. Still, she had slept with her older stepbrother practically the moment she had met him, and she knew what her mom would think. Sasha took a nervous gulp of orange juice. Her French toast was sitting on the table, untouched.

"I don't know what Dan's problem is," her mom finally said. "I think he's just worked up over nothing." Sasha felt the tension drain out of her.  A second later her phone buzzed.  She pulled it out breathlessly under the table, knowing it was Tom.

"Who is that?" her mom asked.

"No one. God." She put her phone away. "Why are you so paranoid? I was alone with him for a day."

"Okay. Just be careful, Sasha."

Sasha's mom took her shopping while Tom and his dad hit the slopes. It felt like she hadn't seen her mom in forever, even though she had come to see her only a month ago. Today was the most wildly indulgent day they had ever spent together. With Dan's money, they could buy anything.

"Try it on," her mom said, as Sasha ran her fingers over a Dolce and Gabbana dress. Just looking at the price tag made her heart race. It was worth more than her car.

"Just try it on," her mom coaxed her.

The salesperson stood next to them eagerly, like a hyena.  Putting it on, actually feeling it against her skin, was incredible. Sasha twirled in front of the mirror, watching the fabric move. But she couldn't take it, it was simply too much. She walked outside to show her mom.

"We'll take it," her mom immediately told the sales woman.

"Mom! Really!" Sasha protested. But she didn't press the issue any more. And the rest of the day passed similarly, store after store, like a wild shopping spree.

By the end of the day Sasha's minivan was cluttered with shopping bags, a pair of skis, custom-fitted ski boots and an unimaginably expensive Patagonia ski outfit. Everything fit wonderfully and was the perfect color, but looking at it all sitting in the backseat made her nervous. What if she wasn't good at it? Tom kept reassuring her that he would teach her how to ski, and everything would go just fine. But whenever he had finally convinced her it would go ok, he would scare her again, usually with a story about how he had almost died skiing in a backcountry chute, or jumping off a cliff. He was a nut.

Her heart was pounding when she stepped out of her van in front of the fancy Italian restaurant where they were supposed to meet Tom and Dan. Even in the whirlwind that had been her day, he hadn't left her mind, not for a second.