Read His Dark Secret – A Stepbrother Romance for Free Online Page B

into the other. Wouldn't do to misplace them, after all.
     
    “Pants.”
     
    He should've really seen that one coming, but for some reason, it gave him a little jolt anyway. His hands trembled as he undid the zipper, and stood awkwardly on one leg, slipping them down.
     
    “Don't sit back down.”
     
    And so he stood there. He was thankful it was summer, else he would probably have been a little cold.
     
    “Your boxers, now.” A quick glance over. “Sorry. Should've known it'd be briefs.”
     
    James eventually, somehow, got them off. He stood there, perfectly naked, in a married woman's living room. He held his briefs balled up in his hand, not knowing exactly what to do with them. He couldn't exactly leave them on a married woman's living room floor... that clearly would not be appropriate.
     
    She looked up at him, and her eyes flashed inevitably towards his groin. She smirked when she saw he had it covered with his other hand.
     
    “Go ahead and toss those over here.”
     
    “What, my briefs?”
     
    “No, bud. Your balls.” He stared at her blankly. “Of course your briefs.”
     
    What else could he do? His briefs arced across the room. She caught them. And then she put them down, and started typing again.
     
    James started trembling. It wasn't the temperature... but he wasn't sure if it was the confusion, or the growing sense of humiliation. For the first time, it threatened to flicker into the beginnings of rage.
     
    And then, Brenda took the briefs from the table, where she'd been drumming her fingers on them, and raised them to her face. She inspected them for a second through her reading glasses. Then, she pressed it to her nose, and sniffed them.
     
    It was only for a second. And her expression hadn't changed at all – it was as casual as if she'd just raised a finger to scratch her nose. It was probably more out of absent-minded curiosity than lust. And yet, that moment changed everything for James. For him, it seemed the first thing she had done today which he could uncomplicatedly read as desire.
     
    He started to get hard. At first, he barely noticed – he was too busy staring intently at the face which, just a few seconds ago, had been pressed against cloth that had spent the last few hours cradling his cock.
     
    Then, the hand that had been covering his modesty started to subtly press against it, until he was rubbing himself insistently with his palm.
     
    Within a minute, he was as hard as he could ever remember being – and something in him cracked...  or loosened.
     
    He moved his hand away.
     
    Only then did Brenda look over. She saw a young man just entering the prime of his existence, standing stark naked on the rug she brought over from Tehran, his manhood pointing proudly toward the ceiling, hands balled into fists at his side.
     
    She smiled. And it was not a mocking smile.
     
    She rose from her seat, leaving her glasses folded on the table, and began to walk over to him, but paused to admire the sight.
     
    He was just over 6 feet tall, which put him half a head above her. His shoulders were broad, and the tendons on his neck stood out subtly, leading down to the delicious ridges of his collarbones.
     
    Without his shirt, she saw for the first time that he was exquisitely muscled. He had done the long-jump throughout high school – it's what his mom had called a “valedictorian's sport” – and it had left him a ideally toned body. Taken by surprise by that chiseled physique, she felt a shiver run through her, down her back, up her thighs, to finish with a tweak between her legs. She bit her lip – hard.
     
    She closed the gap between them until they were barely separated by a finger's breadth. She looked up into his eyes – a heart-aching, robin's eggshell blue. She reached up with both hands, and pulled off his glasses, rendering him beautifully, finally, perfectly nude.
     
    Then she ran the glasses over her mouth, the lenses squeaking inaudibly against her