Hey everyone! I've written my fair share of stories when I was younger. Now I'm here as an adult, trying to write smut in my spare time. Hope you enjoy my first story. Leave your comments below as I'm new to writing these types of stories, if you like it that would be great but who doesn't love constructive criticism.
Moving back home from college was something I had always planned on doing. My girlfriend, Rebecca, had been missing it since we went to the same university. With our degrees in hand we decided to head back before figuring out the next step in our life together. Having lived together for 4 years, we didn't want to move back with our parents. Instead we got a humble one bedroom apartment. The size was certainly a motivator to work harder in our careers. But we had a pretty comfortable life, I would work in the living room while Rebecca went to her job as a teacher. We made love constantly and still had the same zest we did as in high school.
I always counted myself as lucky to have a girl like her in my life. I enjoyed my pick of girls as a lean but muscular 6' 4" basketball star but she was the one above the rest. Her brunette hair was always shining in the light and at a good 5' 10" she was always just under my head for a forehead kiss. She was a volleyball player and always kept in good shape. She managed to keep her boobs a larger C and had a round tight ass you could eat off of. After a long workout she would always jump into my arms as we took in each other's scent and went wild. Her beautiful tits bouncing in my face as she rode my hard throbbing cock. We were each others first but I knew that Rebecca's pussy was better than any other girl I would meet at school. She loved to squeeze her pussy when I said I was close and it felt like her womb was trying to milk me.
"Oh Mark, I love you so much." She would whisper every morning and night.
But over time it felt that things were changing. Rebecca was coming home less and less and stopped doing anything at home. Usually I would cook dinner before she got home, or even pick her up from work to take her out. Calling her just sent me to voicemail and then Rebecca would come back around 10 pm, exhausted and in need of a shower. I texted my stepsister about it, her response was straightforward as always.
That slut's probably cheating on you. I never liked her for you bro. Call you tonight.
You don't know what you're talking about Angela.
I tried to work but my mind was racing over everything. I thought about just going to see Rebecca at her job, but if she saw anything out of the ordinary she might just think I'm catching on. I wanted airtight proof before I said anything. As I ate dinner alone I got a text from Angela.
Told you.
As soon as I read it, a picture appeared on my screen. There was my girlfriend Rebecca, walking into an apartment with another man. Then a second picture of them kissing as he groped my girlfriend's ass. My heart stopped, and it felt like everything was spinning. I hadn't even noticed the second text from Angela.
I'm coming over.
I laid in my bed crying, my phone was still on the couch. I resisted the urge to go find Rebecca and teach this guy a thing or two. Angela's pictures obscured his face, clearly she was more interested in getting a shot of my girlfriend. I stared at the picture on our nightstand. There we were, 18 years old at our high school graduation. Angela managed to photobomb, kicking the air behind Rebecca's back. I laughed to myself thinking of that day, and how much better things were back then.
To say the two of them didn't like each other was putting it lightly. When I first brought Rebecca home, Angela pouted the entire time at dinner. During our first college Christmas, she gave Rebecca some Plan B. She got an earful from her dad and after that I stopped being close to my stepsister. Her father, my stepdad, tried to keep her from seeing us and forbade her to talk about Rebecca when I was visiting. Rebecca tried to act like Angela's remarks didn't bother her, but I've caught the two of them whisper arguing in the kitchen a few times. I would just reassure her that I loved her and that Angela would have to get used to her once she was my wife. So much for that plan. Then there was a knock at my door.
I dragged myself to the door and tried to wipe my eyes of any tears. I had no idea who would be at my door. Most of my time was spent with Rebecca, and most friends I made in high school were far from our hometown. I looked through the keyhole and saw her, my 19 year old stepsister Angela. Expecting the "I told you so" of a lifetime, I opened the door.