Jake wiped the towel across his face and grabbed his comb to brush the reddish-brown bristles against his jaw.
Stepping back from the mirror, he eyed his appearance with a smile. He looked good at 28 years old and assumed all his former classmates would agree. He had obtained the same physique he had achieved playing basketball and football in high school.
His ten-year reunion was to start at the football game and end at his friend Rob's house. The same two-story home where Jake had drunk his first beer and kissed his first set of pouty lips. This week's memories were enough to make him feel eighteen again. He and his father had just returned from the lake, producing a cooler filled to the brim with catfish and bass. The two had drunk like brothers on the boat and laughed harder than he had as a kid. They even shared memories of his departed mother, jerking their spirits and bringing them to joyful tears.
Jake felt youthful until the knock on the bathroom door reminded him his life wasn't the same as when he was a child.
"Hold on." He called, unfolding his shirt.
Lola groaned and tapped her foot before giving another sharp knock,
"Jacob, if you are getting dressed, you can do that in the guest room, not the bathroom."
His stepsister, Lola, was a licensed good girl and a pain in his ass. She had purposely been trying to convert him to Christianity in the few days he had been home. He had quickly informed her of his agnostic status and, since then, had been on her bad side.
So as not to wrinkle it, Jake took his time pulling his shirt over his head, carefully converting the dark green collar around his neck. Another knock sounded but went ignored as he brushed his shoulders and pulled up his sleeve to show off his gym success. He whistled a tune, running his fingers across his ab-bumped stomach, wanting to take his time to prepare for the night.
"Jacob, please.."
"Jacob, Please," Jake murmured before calling out to her, "Wait a fucking minute, I just got in here."
Flinching at his curse, Lola knew his statement to be a lie and held her tongue.
Her stepbrother's arrival had dampened her peace this week, and she was ready for next Friday when his father would tearfully take him back to the airport. Not only did he hog the bathroom, leaving the room smelling of a spicy, overly masculine aroma, but he was constantly cursing and making lewd jokes that her stepfather, Tim, thought hilarious.
Tim had married her mother, Olive, four years ago after meeting her on a Christian dating site. He had claimed to be a true believer, but a few weeks after the wedding, Tim introduced beer into her humble home. Lola had opposed it in a gentle debate with her mother and resorted to telling her devoted stepmother and father of the man's sinful acts. But neither seemed as worried as Lola. She was faithful to her religious beliefs and wanted those around her to follow suit. But this week, Jake was making it hard to love thy neighbor.
"Please," Lola knocked, "I've got to use the bathroom," she begged in a soft whine that tugged Jake out of his petty demeanor.
The door flew open to reveal her 6 feet 3-inch tall stepbrother standing dapper at the doorway. Jake was cut to a tee with his hair smoothed back in a flattering cut that faded around his neck. Despite the crude way he spoke and his vices, he was a handsome man, and Lola quickly swallowed her crush.
"Finnally, thank you," she mumbled.
Jake looked down at her with a broad grin. Lola was five feet nothing and looked adorably menacing with her thin arms folded across her plump bust. Her loose-fit dress didn't enhance the curve of her hips nor sweeten her toned stomach. She was puritanical with her sleek brown hair pulled back into a ponytail that sagged toward her ass.
"How do I look?" Jake asked, adjusting his collar.
"Can you move?" Lola groaned.
"Not until you answer my question."
Jake chuckled as her siren eyes bore back at him with a vengeance. She was too cute to be so shrewd, and he tried to hide the fact she was just his type since she was off-limits in all the right ways.
"How do I look?" he asked, using his palm to smooth his already neat full beard.
"I don't know," Lola shrugged while shoving past him.
Jake pulled her shoulder, and she stumbled back with a grimace.
"Stahp. I need to pee, ugh," she whined.
"Stop being a baby, Lola. I need an honest opinion here," Jake clarified, pulling her into an embrace that sent a rush to her gut. His mouth was deadly close to the hot spot that was her earlobe.
"You know I am your big brother," he whispered against her reddening cheeks, "You should be sweeter to me."
The tingles against her spine made her mouth drop in surprise, and she could feel the heat radiating off his firm hands, clenching her waist. Afraid of her feelings, Lola squirmed from his hold, wriggling her hips against his thigh until his boner materialized against his pants.
"Jacob," Lola curled her hips.
"You did it. Hm, and I thought you were a good girl." Jake taunted, allowing his cock to push around her back, "I can't help you turn me on."
"Ew! Mom!" Lola wailed, "Jake-"
"Hush." Jake barked, placing his palm around her mouth, "Just answer the question. How do I look?"
"Mmmhmm," Lola grumbled, attempting to pull away toward the bathroom door.
"What was that, little Lola?" he winked, slipping his hand down her hip and his lips closer to her neck.
The hot blush around her cheeks was nothing to the tingles she felt in her loins. Her movements did nothing to stop her building need to piss.
"Nomm," she mumbled. But before Lola could try again to flee from his embrace she felt her panties fill with warmth that rushed down her legs.
Jake heard the drops trickle on his new shoes and scowled.
"What the fuck, Lola?"
Embarrassed, Lola closed her eyes. This wasn't happening.
Jake pushed her into the bathroom and slammed the door.
"You pissed all over my fucking shoes," he grumbled, pulling off the fresh pair and placing them on the sink.
"I'm sorry...."
Lola looked into the mirror and noticed her heavy breaths and her tinted cheeks were apparent against her tan face.
"I told you I had to go. And what you did... touching me like that was very inappropriate," she whispered.
"What I did was inappropriate? What about you?" Peeking at the wet stain coating her long skirt, he smiled, "Take your clothes off and I will take them to the laundry room so your mom doesn't find out you're a pissy little girl."
"No." Lola scrunched her nose, "Just go."
"We are siblings, Lola. Just take them off."
With a pout, Lola pulled at her waistband until her hip came into view. Her sweet cotton panties were drenched with urine but he couldn't resist the urge to touch. He yanked at the fabric until the skirt was bunched around her ankles.
"Take everything off," Jake urged, hoping to sound prompt and concerned, "Come on."
"I'll hand them to you outside."
"Lola, stop being a baby and take them off."
Jake was in awe as her fingers pulled at her damp underwear and in seconds her pissy little pussy was in sight. He licked his lips as her pussy lips twitched between her thick thighs.
"Fuck," he mumbled.
"What?" Lola asked, placing her hand on her untouched flower.
"I've got to wash you up." He clarified and reached for a rag neatly arranged on the shelf.
"No. I can just take a shower. It's not a big deal, Uhhm-"
Jake snatched her hand away and Lola winced as he brushed the rag between her hairless lips. Slivers of pleasure mixed with her anxiety caused a jolt and she grunted from his investigation. She could hardly stand straight as his gentle technique thawed her into leaning against his chest.
"Uhm, stop. Stop, I can do it," Lola spoke out.
"Relax, you got it everywhere," Jake chuckled.
Her expression was puzzling but he knew her tiny clit enjoyed his manipulation. His voice fell into a husky tone, "Spread your legs wider."
The look in his eyes scared Lola and she focused on the directions he took against her folds. Why did it feel amazing? She pulled at his arm as a newfound tingle formed from his toying.
"Mm, Jake. Oh, stop. I don't think...ooh," Lola stammered out in a ragged breath as his momentum hurried, "Ooh, stop. Ah, oh, my...."
Jake removed the cloth, finding a sticky collection.
Overwhelmed and unsure, Lola flinched when his fingers replaced the damp rag. Her eyes widened in shock from his audacity and the pleasure souring around her head. She wasn't playing his sick games anymore and loudly announced what he was doing was inappropriate.
Jake chuckled and removed his finger, showing off the silky sap coating his fingers.
"I turn you on?" Jake asked.
"No!" Lola shouted and pushed his chest, "Get out! Now!"
Jake rolled his eyes at his prudish sister as she hurried him out of the bathroom. She could pretend all she wanted but the evidence lingered on the tip of his finger. He ignored his desire and wandered to the kitchen to find her mother dutifully washing dishes.
"I was just teasing her," he confessed before Olive turned to face him, "Lola is a bit stuffy, no offense."
"Oh, it's fine. Lola isn't used to having a sibling around. Aw, look at you," she beamed, "don't you look handsome. Are you excited to see your old schoolmates?"
"Yes, ma'am. I follow most on Facebook, but it will be fun to see how much everyone has changed. Those filters make everyone seem young."
"Oh, yes. I don't think your father thought I was who I said I was online. But here I am," Olive giggled at her luck in online dating, "I am so lucky to have such an amazing husband. Lola respects your father, and she loves both of you. We often add you to our nightly prayers. Lola says you need a spiritual uplifting."
Rolling his eyes, Jake scanned her lean frame and could understand why his father had been skeptical. Olive was perfect. It wasn't ordinary for a 46-year-old woman to be in such shape without surgery, but his stepmother had a banging body that, like her daughter, was hidden under a long skirt. Thanks to one shared bathroom, he had caught her one morning in a lacy slip, showing off delicious tanned legs. He assumed her Hispanic heritage kept her face sparkling, or it could have been the soft dark curls flowing down her back and the light makeup she applied. Whatever it was, his father had hit the jackpot.
"What do you think about coming to church with us Sunday?" Olive asked, breaking his lustful gaze.
"I think my father is a lucky man, ma'am," Jake smiled.
"Most definitely a lucky man," Tim said as he entered the kitchen.
Olive giggled. Finalizing scrubbing the stainless steel pot, she placed it in the rack before peeling off her gloves and greeting her husband with a kiss.
"You smell like fish," she frowned.
