This wouldn’t take long.

I locked the bathroom door, stepped to the toilet, undid my pants, and prepared for a joyless, biologically necessary ejaculation.

But I kept getting distracted by my shock at Christie’s calculated cruelty. How could she do this to me? And with our *parents* in the room, while sitting on the sofa with her *mother*—which, okay, yeah, made it hotter, but also more diabolical. Jesus. She was a *monster*.

Okay, shake it off. Back to work. Stroke, stroke, stroke.

Then my mind was blown all over again, because wait, she’d been fucking her own foot, and, oh my God, she sat on her feet *all the damn time.* It was a cute, innocent pose—or so my dumb ass always thought. Holy fucking fuck, how many times had she done exactly what I’d seen today, right in front of me, without me knowing?

Okay, never mind, forget it—time to shoot my load.

I squeezed my eyes shut and stroked.

My nut rose to the surface, my balls tightened, my dick throbbed, and…


An ear-splitting jungle noise reverberated off the tile walls.

My nut reversed course and retreated to my testicles as I spun, spurting pre-cum on the mirror, and searched for the goddamn owl flying around the bathroom.

But there was no owl. My eyes stopped at a cell phone on the floor beside the tub. Christie’s phone. She’d left it here after her bath.

Oh, right. Christie’s text alerts didn’t ding, they went —


I jumped with surprise as her phone hooted again. Then I stepped closer and squinted at the text preview box on the home screen. Was this a reply from the person I’d heard her texting in the tub?

The preview box disappeared before I could read it, but I could’ve sworn I glimpsed my name—HUNTER—written in all caps. This made me uneasy. But, screw it, the text preview was gone, and I wouldn’t violate her privacy by trying to unlock her phone. Pretty sure it required her fingerprint anyway.

Okay, back to the toilet. Get this cum out of me and…


I jerked my head and read the new text before it disappeared.

*CALLIE: Kinda creepy that he had a boner while you were passed out, don’t ya think?*

My blood froze.

So Christie *had* ratted me out. Somebody else knew what happened outside this morning. *Callie.* Callie knew.

Wait, who the fuck was Callie? I flipped through memories of the friends Christie brought home when I lived here. Most seemed classy, like Christie herself, but there was that one slutty chick with bleached hair and piercings all over her body. Was that…?


*CALLIE: But hey, at least now you know he has a nice big dick!!! Lol!!!*

Yeah. Callie was the slutty one.

My “nice big dick” had shrunk with the discovery that my humiliating secret was out, but the compliment had a revitalizing effect. Okay, fuck it, Christie told her slutty friend. No big deal. Time to finish up and…


Jesus Christ.

I bent over the phone.

*CALLIE: So you’re fucking him TONIGHT, huh?*

Wait… what?

I re-read the text several times before it vanished.

No way. Callie misunderstood. Christie wasn’t planning to fuck me tonight, or ever. She was just messing with my head—teasing me—playing a vicious, nasty joke.

Hell, even if she wanted to fuck me, she wouldn’t do it tonight, on Easter, while both our parents were home in a one-story house with thin fucking walls. She’d have to be crazy. No fucking way.

I shook my head, squeezed my eyes shut, grabbed the base of my cock, and…


Goddammit! What now?

*CALLIE: Well, sweetie, I love you and support you no matter what, so if it feels right, I say go for it. Damn, girl! Losing your virginity to your stepbrother!!! So hentai!!! Hahaha!!! Good luck!!!*

Long after the text disappeared, I stared at Christie’s phone in stunned silence, my dick shriveling in my hand.

Holy shit. She really wanted to lose her virginity to me? Tonight?

When I returned to the toilet, I couldn’t get my confused dick going again.

I zipped up my pants and walked out of the bathroom.

Dishes were clinking in the dining room. I turned left at the end of the hallway, stood at the dining room entrance, and watched Christie set the table.

Her back was to me. Her face was reflected in the mirror above the sideboard. A sneaky, self-satisfied smile flitted at the corners of her mouth.

When our eyes met in the mirror, she set her face in a neutral expression, bent over the table, and distributed salad plates.

“Christie,” I said in a thick, faltering voice. I cleared my throat. “What… what the hell are you doing?”

She scowled, tilting her head at me in the mirror as if I’d asked a trick question. “Setting the table,” she said.

I entered the room, grabbed her arms, and turned her to face me. “Whatever you’re doing—whatever you’re planning—it can’t happen tonight. You know I want you, that I’ve always… but… I don’t know. Maybe in a few years, when you’re out of school. But we can’t do anything now. Not here. Not tonight. Your mother *hates* me. She’s *suspicious*. She’s watching my *every fucking move.”*

My voice had grown louder than I intended. Christie glanced toward the living room, then pulled her arms from my grasp and finished setting the table. “Jeez, Hunter, whatever’s upsetting you, we’ll talk about it later, okay?” She gave the table a last inspection, then walked through the kitchen to the living room. “Mom! Howard! Dinner’s ready!”

I banged my fist on the table. *Fuck.* Was she going to keep playing evil mind games throughout dinner?

Christie’s voice rose in volume from the living room. “Mom?… *Mom?”*

I frowned.

*“Howard?”* She was shouting now. “Hey! Howard! Mom! *Wake up!”*

I rushed to the living room.

Christie was hunched over the sofa, shaking a limp and floppy Therese. Her mother’s eyes were closed, her mouth hung open, and she didn’t so much as twitch under Christie’s rough handling.

I ran to my father, who was snoring loudly in his La-Z-Boy. “Dad! Hey, Dad! Wake up! Time to eat!”

He didn’t budge.

Christie stopped shaking her mother, sat on the sofa, and gazed thoughtfully at her sleeping face. Then she turned to the coffee table and lifted Therese’s teacup. “Damn,” she said. “Mom’s tranquilizers must be stronger than I thought.”

I let go of my dad’s shoulders and blinked at her. “Huh?”

Christie set the cup down. “I figured one dose would make them groggy, and another at dinner would knock them out. Maybe because they took them on an empty stomach…?” Her voice trailed off. Then her eyes lit up with an idea. She turned toward her mother, bounced up and down on the sofa, and launched into a series of loud, pornographic cries.

*“Uhhnn… uhnnnn… Uhhhn-uhhhnnn-uhnnnn… Ohhhh… Ohhhh… OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD AHHHHHHNNNGGHHHH!”*

Therese and my dad slept on.

Christie shrugged. “Yeah, they’re out.”

She stood up and grabbed Therese by the shoulders. “Help me lie her down, would you? Darn it, I was hoping she’d change into her nightgown first. I hate letting her sleep in her church clothes all night.” After guiding her mother to lie sideways, she struggled to drag her across the sofa and stretch her out on the cushions, but finally gave up and turned to me and with an impatient huff. *“Hello?”*

I walked mechanically to the sofa and helped her spread Therese out on her back. She raised her mother’s stockinged legs to the cushion, then yanked the afghan from under them and covered her. After arranging a throw pillow under Therese’s head, she stepped back and examined her work. “Eh, her neck might be sore tomorrow, but I think this is the best we can do.” She picked up the remote, clicked off the TV, then glanced at my dad in his La-Z-Boy. “He should be okay.” Then, to me: “Sorry about dinner. I’ll put everything in the fridge. We’ll eat it tomorrow.”

I made a few inarticulate noises before I could speak. “I… I can’t believe you roofied our parents.”

“Yeah.” Christie shook her head and scowled as if she disapproved of her own actions. “Mom really shouldn’t leave drugs out where little kids can get to them. Oh, wait.” She raised a finger to her chin, then cocked an eyebrow and glowered at her mother. “I’m not a little kid anymore,” she said.

I blinked at her, speechless.

She tugged at her dress and walked past me to the hallway, her bare feet slapping against the hardwood. “I’m going to my room to take this stupid thing off. Have fun at your party.” She paused at her bedroom door and shot me a look. “Good luck with the girl of your dreams,” she said, then disappeared into her room.


I turned to my phone on the end table beside me.

Slowly, I raised it to my face.

*Hey, man! Paula’s here! Are you coming?*

I pressed the power button, watched the phone die, then threw it aside and stormed down the hallway, my risen cock leading the way to Christie’s bedroom.