4: Eyes on you two
1199 Words
~ Evie ~
It’s been a full week since that dirty hike f**k in the woods. Feels like forever. I’m so f*****g horny I can barely think. All I see is his c**k.
But he’s been out with Dad the whole time, getting everything ready for this family dinner party. No chance for us to sneak away. Not even our usual midnight hookups. It’s driving me insane that he’s not here.
Now I’m trapped at this loud, chaotic family dinner, and it’s nothing like I expected.
Aunts, uncles, cousins everywhere, laughing too loud, plates clinking, kids running around like maniacs. I'm trying to act normal, smiling at stupid jokes, passing the mashed potatoes, but my mind's a mess.
I need him bad. But with everyone here? No way.
Jack already knows exactly what mood I’m in - he can tell I’m craving his d**k. Truth is, he’s even more desperate for my p***y than I am for him. He’s just better at hiding it.
I’m the only one who says it out loud. That’s the difference.
And I’m going to keep f*****g him harder, deeper, more often, like the desperate slut I am... for as long as this filthy secret stays locked tight.
Claire is my only real problem right now.
She’s started looking at us funny, like she can sense something’s wrong.
Should she be scared?
Should I?
I mean… I’m sleeping with her son, right?
If she ever actually catches us - it’s going to be yelling, breaking things, total chaos.
But Jack isn’t my dad’s son.
He isn’t my mom’s either.
On paper it’s clean. No blood connection.
Or am I just going crazy, making excuses so I can keep doing this?
Maybe.
Doesn’t change anything.
Until everything blows up, I’m not stopping.
Every chance I get, I’ll keep opening my legs for him, wide open, no shame.
I’m lost in my own head when Jack appears beside the table. He sets a folded napkin in front of me without a word.
My breath snags.
I slide it open under the table, just lifting one corner.
His familiar, messy handwriting:
"Guest room. 5 min."
Everything inside me tightens, then melts. Like falling and floating at the same time.
I raise my eyes slowly.
He’s already watching.
I give the smallest possible nod, almost not there, and fold the napkin into my palm, pressing it deep into my pocket.
Five minutes feels endless.
I notice Aunt Linda watching my every move. When Jack drops the napkin, I catch the exact moment her eyes sharpen. It’s that look - part “I see you” and part “I know precisely what that means.” She has the face of someone who’s been exactly where I am right now.
I grab my phone under the table and text Jack fast:
"Go to your room. NOT the guest room."
To throw Aunt Linda off, I stand up casually and walk straight toward the guest room like that’s my plan all along. I know Jack’s not in there. He’s already slipped away to his own room by now… c**k hard, waiting for me to come ride him.
The guest room door is cracked open just enough. I slip inside and ease it shut behind me, soft so it doesn’t click. The bed looks perfect, sheets still tucked tight like nobody’s been near it.
Four minutes later, a quiet knock. It’s Aunt Linda.
I crack the door and stand in the opening, blocking her view.
"Are you hiding someone in there?" she asks, eyes narrow. "Is it Jack? You know he’s your stepbrother."
I shake my head no.
She doesn’t buy it. She pushes the door wider and steps in, scanning the room, checking under the bed, behind the curtains. Nothing. Jack’s not here.
She walks into the bathroom, turns on the faucet, splashes water on her face. When she comes back out, her expression is calm but sharp - like she’s already planning the next time she’ll catch us.
"I’ve been exactly where you are," she says quietly, almost kind. "So I know how fast this can go wrong."
She turns and walks away.
She just made it very clear she’s not done watching.
"Catch us if you can," I whispered.
Too quiet for her to hear.
She can’t hear.
I bolt.
Straight to Jack’s room.
I’ve kept him waiting too long.
I’m too desperate to waste another second.
Clothes hit the floor fast.
I crash onto his bed, spread my legs wider and bend my knees. He kneels between my thighs, his c**k hanging thick and heavy between us.
He lowers his hips and slowly pushes just the head inside me. Careful. Intentional.
I gasp. "Deeper… It’s your p***y, Jack."
"This p***y fits me perfectly," Jack murmurs. "It’s my favorite place."
He pulls all the way out, letting just the swollen tip slide slowly along my slit.
"Right there," I gasp. "That drives me crazy."
I reach down fast, grab him, and start rubbing the thick head over my c**t in slow, slippery circles. Using him like he’s toy to play with. The wet friction feels so damn good.
My thighs start shaking.
"Fallen slut from heaven?" he growls.
I don’t answer.
Just keep grinding, coating myself in his pre-c*m.
I drag the tip down to my hole, he shoves in rough, stretching me wide on the first push.
"Fuck...give me the rest, now," I whine, voice cracking.
He slams hard, deep, whole body working like he’s knocking out push-ups: shoulders locked, stomach clenched, hips punching forward.
He just f***s me - long, brutal strokes, slamming deep, trying to split me open.
I lock my ankles tight behind his back, heels jamming into his ass, pulling him deeper.
"Harder," I gasp. "f**k me harder."
He snarls, snaps his hips faster. That fat cockhead keeps slamming the exact spot that makes my eyes roll.
I come hard, soaking him with it.
Then he’s there, filling me deep, heavy, loud.
"You’re f*****g trouble," he mutters, voice wrecked.
I grin.
"Only for you, baby."
I slip back into the living room to join the family at dinner, just before Claire catches the wrong scent.
But it’s Aunt Linda again.
She leans in, voice low and wet.
"You know how you smell right now?"
I force a dumb half-grin, the kind that says f**k off without saying it.
She doesn’t blink.
"Like cunt and fresh c*m. Someone just f****d you stupid."
My asshole clenches. Heat crawls up my neck.
She smiles like she’s won already.
"I’m thinking I catch you next weekend. Same time, same cock."
Her eyes flick toward Jack across the room - then back to me, slower.
"Or maybe I tell Claire to keep both eyes on you two. Full-time babysitter. Wouldn’t that be cute?"
My throat locks.
I shake my head once. Quick. Hard. No.
She lets the silence sit there, heavy and sticky.
"So that’s a yes Jack’s been f*****g you raw… or a yes to me telling Claire to keep eyes on you two?"
My c**t pulses hard, like it’s begging to confess.
I don’t answer.
She doesn’t need me to.
I already know what to do.
- Writer
