Story Excerpt

I thought the back row of the Suburban would be hell, until my dumb blonde bimbo stepsister plopped down on my lap. Crystal was sunshine, perfume, and a short little sundress that didn’t cover half of what it should. Every bump in the road pressed her ass against my lap, every wiggle made me harder, and every ditzy giggle made me lose control. She was “just getting comfy,” but I knew exactly what she was doing, and she knew exactly what I wanted. With our parents feet away in the front seat, I slid my hands under her dress, and soon I was buried inside her, while she giggled like a bimbo in heat. She called me her chair. I made her my receptacle.