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Authors: Evelyn Graves
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Gun,” she said, turning herself around to set
her ass right against my lap. “Jim hasn’t been a part of my life since I moved
out. But you probably know how that is, right? Just packing
up and leaving at the first chance? Never looking back or calling?
Telling us you weren’t dead in a ditch somewhere?”
“Tanya,
listen, I . . . ” The feeling of her tight ass against
my groin stole the words right out of me. I closed my eyes as I tried to deny
to myself how good it felt having her body pressing against mine. “You
shouldn’t be here.”
“What
the hell do you know?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at me before
turning herself around again. She straddled my waist, grinding on my crotch
again, just a thin piece of fabric between her womanhood and my jeans. “Are you
going to pay my bills? My rent?”
“That’s
not—” I started to say, but stopped in a desperate attempt not to make a
much more compromising sound. I couldn’t let her know how good this
felt—how much of an effect it was having on me. “You can do better than
this.”
Tanya
fluttered her lashes and opened her eyes wide. “Gosh, I’d never thought of
that. It really never occurred to me
to just do something else besides shake my ass for total strangers. Thanks for the
advice, Gun,” she said, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. “Maybe I should
have tried a few other things before I resorted to the pole—oh, wait! I
did.”
I
couldn’t speak as I listening to her, the way her body undulated against mine
had taken all the words from my lips, threatening to replace them with soft
grunts and groans of enjoyment—I couldn’t give her that satisfaction, and
keeping myself from getting an erection was taking all of my conscious effort.
“Fast
food places. Waitressing in a fucking diner. Spinning
a fucking sign, for God’s sakes. I even lost my apartment before I had to start
stripping. Do you have any idea what that’s like, Gunner? Living on the
street?”
She
held onto the back of the couch to brace herself, her hips gyrating against me.
I looked up into her face, her lips parted, brow furrowed in the effort it took
to move with the kind of coordination this dance of hers required. I couldn’t
deny that despite how I felt about her being a stripper, my little step-sister was damn good at her job—which only made
me hate it even more.
“Tanya—”
“Shut
up! I’m not done!” she growled, arching her back so that her tits were pressed
right against my face. It was more than enough to break my concentration for a
moment—more than enough to wake up my sleeping cock from between my
thighs.
“I
didn’t know how I was going to fucking eat or where I was going to sleep at
night. It was hell , Gunner. And you
didn’t even bother trying to find me.”
I
closed my eyes, tight, trying once again to regain control of my thoughts, to
once again bring myself back under control, but it was too late. My shaft began
to swell inside of my pants, stiffening until it strained against the fabric of
my jeans. I needed this to stop.
I
couldn’t help myself, thinking about how easy it would be to slip her G-string
to the side and unzip my pants, to take her right in the back room of the place
she worked. It’d happened here before, the stench of it still clung all around
me and that only seemed to make it more exciting, fucking my own step-sister in
the dirty back room of a strip-club. But it was too much, and I knew that if
she didn’t stop I’d never be able to resist my own urges.
“Tanya,
enough,” I snapped. I grabbed her hips, pushing her away from me as I tried to
stand. But before I could try to move she slapped my hands away and pushed me
back against the couch.
“No touching ,” she snarled back, grinding herself right against my throbbing erection. I let out a
groan, my eyes shutting as she worked herself right against my shaft.
her ass right against my lap. “Jim hasn’t been a part of my life since I moved
out. But you probably know how that is, right? Just packing
up and leaving at the first chance? Never looking back or calling?
Telling us you weren’t dead in a ditch somewhere?”
“Tanya,
listen, I . . . ” The feeling of her tight ass against
my groin stole the words right out of me. I closed my eyes as I tried to deny
to myself how good it felt having her body pressing against mine. “You
shouldn’t be here.”
“What
the hell do you know?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at me before
turning herself around again. She straddled my waist, grinding on my crotch
again, just a thin piece of fabric between her womanhood and my jeans. “Are you
going to pay my bills? My rent?”
“That’s
not—” I started to say, but stopped in a desperate attempt not to make a
much more compromising sound. I couldn’t let her know how good this
felt—how much of an effect it was having on me. “You can do better than
this.”
Tanya
fluttered her lashes and opened her eyes wide. “Gosh, I’d never thought of
that. It really never occurred to me
to just do something else besides shake my ass for total strangers. Thanks for the
advice, Gun,” she said, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. “Maybe I should
have tried a few other things before I resorted to the pole—oh, wait! I
did.”
I
couldn’t speak as I listening to her, the way her body undulated against mine
had taken all the words from my lips, threatening to replace them with soft
grunts and groans of enjoyment—I couldn’t give her that satisfaction, and
keeping myself from getting an erection was taking all of my conscious effort.
“Fast
food places. Waitressing in a fucking diner. Spinning
a fucking sign, for God’s sakes. I even lost my apartment before I had to start
stripping. Do you have any idea what that’s like, Gunner? Living on the
street?”
She
held onto the back of the couch to brace herself, her hips gyrating against me.
I looked up into her face, her lips parted, brow furrowed in the effort it took
to move with the kind of coordination this dance of hers required. I couldn’t
deny that despite how I felt about her being a stripper, my little step-sister was damn good at her job—which only made
me hate it even more.
“Tanya—”
“Shut
up! I’m not done!” she growled, arching her back so that her tits were pressed
right against my face. It was more than enough to break my concentration for a
moment—more than enough to wake up my sleeping cock from between my
thighs.
“I
didn’t know how I was going to fucking eat or where I was going to sleep at
night. It was hell , Gunner. And you
didn’t even bother trying to find me.”
I
closed my eyes, tight, trying once again to regain control of my thoughts, to
once again bring myself back under control, but it was too late. My shaft began
to swell inside of my pants, stiffening until it strained against the fabric of
my jeans. I needed this to stop.
I
couldn’t help myself, thinking about how easy it would be to slip her G-string
to the side and unzip my pants, to take her right in the back room of the place
she worked. It’d happened here before, the stench of it still clung all around
me and that only seemed to make it more exciting, fucking my own step-sister in
the dirty back room of a strip-club. But it was too much, and I knew that if
she didn’t stop I’d never be able to resist my own urges.
“Tanya,
enough,” I snapped. I grabbed her hips, pushing her away from me as I tried to
stand. But before I could try to move she slapped my hands away and pushed me
back against the couch.
“No touching ,” she snarled back, grinding herself right against my throbbing erection. I let out a
groan, my eyes shutting as she worked herself right against my shaft.
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