Almost Caught With My Brother

Cadence and her husband hit Vegas for a little sun and slots. Her stepbrother Johnny happens to live there, so she books them a room within reach. Hubby can’t stand the guy and doesn’t trust him an inch, but Cadian could give a fuck. Hell, she won’t even cover up the lingerie. She swings the door wide when Johnny knocks, tits half out, lingerie-clad. He grins, scoops her up, spins her like she weighs nothing, then he shoots her husband that classic ‘still fuckin’ your girl’ smile while tossing out something sugar-coated. Hubby stomps into the bathroom muttering. The second the shower kicks on, clothes hit the floor. Cadence drops onto the bed, spreads, ready. Johnny’s between her thighs before she finishes the moan; her eyes flicker the moment his tongue drags over her clit. She yanks his pants, climbs on, sixty-nine, cock down her throat, hips rocking. Hubby yells from the steam about a razor. She yells back—busy—never lifts her mouth. She’s hardly back on her knees when she’s already straddling Johnny in reverse. He lines her up, pushes. She sinks, eyes rolling harder now, reverse-cowgirl in their marriage bed, glot of lube and spit making the strokes loud. He spears two fingers in with his cock, knuckles her until she squirts down his wrist and the sheets. He flips her, drills, beds squeaking. Hubby walks in. Johnny drops flat, cock still throbbing. Cadence, smiling, legs open, naked except the soaked lace, feeds the unlucky bastard some line about “changing clothes—Johnny stepped out—go finish your shower.” Once he’s gone, she drags Johnny back up, drops and slurps every inch like an apology. He makes her say she shouldn’t have gotten married in the first place, voice half-choked around his head, until he blows, ropes across her tongue, cheeks, dripping from her lashes. Perfect timing—hubby’s water just cut off.