The driver pulls up to the house and I hate it on sight. It's a huge white farmhouse kind of monstrosity. The only word I can think of to describe it is wholesome. I roll my eyes at the thought of Senator Douchebag giving a tour of the place to reporters, hanging on his every word as he talks about the importance of family values in this day and age. Meanwhile, he ships his kid off to boarding school so he doesn't have to deal with her and marries a rich celebrity who can fund his campaign. Obviously, he's full of something, but it's not family values.
The housekeeper tells me that my mother and the Senator aren't here yet. She shows me to my room and leaves, but not before giving me a look like she smells spoiled milk. I'm guessing someone who looks like me hasn't ever graced the hallowed halls of the Harrison residence. This place probably sees more polo matches than tattoos.
The room, of course, looks like something out of a beach house design magazine. Apparently I got the male version of the guestroom, with a rustic wooden bed, antique corner desk, blue-and-white quilt on the bed, and a ship in a bottle on a shelf on the wall. The entire thing makes my head ache.
The view, on the other hand...hell, that's another story. The minute I open the sliding door that leads out onto the balcony, I get the perfect panorama: two girls, lying on their stomachs on the dock beside the lake, their round asses barely covered by their bikini bottoms. Now, this I could get used to.
One of those asses I immediately recognize as Katherine's. The other girl with an inked pattern I can't quite see running down the side of her leg makes me think I definitely made the right choice coming to New Hampshire for the summer. If Kate has friends as hot as this chick, maybe this bullshit spending the summer in New Hampshire posing as a member of the Stepford family won't be so bad.
Of course, if this means Katherine will be lounging around in a bikini all summer, this entire thing will be a lot easier to swallow. Swallowing makes me think of that night with Katherine, her fumbling tentative movements as she wraps her lips around my cock. I'm not sure she's ever done it before -- she's no expert, that's obvious -- but the way she looks at me, earnestly, unlike the stuck-up priss I know from school, I want to come the minute she takes me in.
Of course, since the last time I saw Katherine, she was pushing me away like I was a leper, the mature thing to do would be to leave her alone and let her hang out with her friend on the dock.
Fuck that. I've never pretended to be mature.
On my way out to the dock, the housekeeper stops me. I can't remember what her name is. "Do you have things you need pressed?" she asks.
I raise an eyebrow at her. "Do I look like I own anything that needs an iron?" I ask.
She puts her hands on her hips and stares at me, her eyes narrow. "You don't look like you own anything that's ever been washed."
I laugh out loud. She's not what I expect from Senator Douchebag's staff. I like her. "It's a look."
She laughs. “It’s something,” she says, shaking her head as she nods to a platter of baked goods on the counter, like I’ve passed some kind of test that gets me into the club where there’s free cookies and muffins. “Your mother and Kate’s father should be in later this evening. Kate’s outside.”
“Thanks.” I grab a cookie because it seems like I’m supposed to and because she doesn't annoy me immediately. The way she refers to her as Kate makes me think they are close.
Katherine and her friend see me before I even reach the dock, but they just lie there unmoving, watching me. Her friend leans over to her, and I'd love to be a fly on the wall to know what they're saying. When I reach them, I don't even bother to try to hide the fact that I'm taking in the view from above.
“Hey, sis,” I say, punctuating the word for extra affect.
“I told you not to call me that, shithead,” she says, bringing herself up to her hands and knees before flipping over in a huff to sit upright on her ass. I think she's trying to hide her ass from my eyes, which makes me laugh, since the way she's sitting now just gives me a great view of her perky tits. They're barely covered in the white swimsuit, and I can see the darkening of her areolas through the thin fabric. If I'm not careful, I'm going to get a boner standing right here looking at her. I'm fixated on thinking about how to get her back in that hands-and-knees position she was too briefly in.
“I’m trying to be friendly to my new step-sister,” I say, mock sugar-sweet. “Or does it make you uncomfortable to think about the fact that I’m your new brother when you’re fantasizing about me?”
“You’re not my new brother,” she says, yanking her sunglasses off her face and shielding her eyes as she looks up at me. Her nostrils flare at the edges, and I’m amused by the fact that she’s so obviously riled up about this.
“Technically I am, sis,” I say.
“We’re eighteen, asshole,” she says. “We didn’t grow up together. Our parents aren’t even married yet. You and I are not related. We’re nothing.”
I look down at her friend, who’s sitting up now and is watching us, her lips turned up at the edges. She's clearly amused. And, I'm thinking as I look at her, certainly no eyesore herself. “She’s just touchy because she got a look at my cock and now she can’t stop thinking about it.”
“Oh?” her friend asks, glancing at Katherine. Kate's face darkens. “You didn’t tell me this.”
My new step-sister looks at me, her eyes wide. “Don’t listen to anything he says. Caulter is full of shit.”
Her friend’s head swivels toward me again, and I glance at her impressive rack, thinking that maybe Katherine's friend is exactly what I need to get Katherine out of my head. “Full of shit?” she asks.
“I’m full of shit, am I, Katherine?” I ask. “So you've never seen my dick?”
“Shut the hell up, Caulter,” she says, standing, her face level with mine. My cock stirs as she glares at me, the flash in her eyes a warning. She thinks I’m about to tell her little friend about our night together; the fact that she’s so obviously upset makes me simultaneously irritated and pleased.
I turn toward Katherine’s friend, who is splayed out casually on the ground, watching us with amusement. “She has, in fact, seen my cock,” I say. “And apparently, she can’t take her mind off it.”
“Come on, Jo,” Katherine says, huffing. “He’s a moron. Let’s get out of here.”
“She didn’t tell you about our little bathroom incident, did she?” I asked. “How I walked in on her changing?” Katherine's expression changes when she understands I'm not about to reveal what happened between us that night.
“No, she didn’t tell me,” her friend says.
Katherine rolls her eyes. “He has no boundaries,” she says. “He thought it was perfectly appropriate behavior to come in while I was in the bathroom and proceed to take a leak in front of me.”
Jo snorts. “That's rude, yes. Completely.”
“I did not take a leak in front of her,” I say, ignoring Katherine. “But if I had to wait for her to stop talking, I’d have pissed myself waiting.”
Beside me, Katherine makes a sound of frustration. “He’s completely full of shit. Jo, are you ready?”
“Jo,” I say, offering her my hand. Jo rises to her feet, her full tits bouncing as she stands. I can’t help but look. “It’s so nice to meet you. Any friend of Katherine’s is a friend of mi -”
“Oh no, I don’t think so,” Katherine says, reaching around me to grab Jo’s arm as Jo laughs. “She’s not a friend of yours in the least. I’m not a friend of yours. You and I are not friends. Don’t even try to hit on her.”
I put my hand over my heart. "Katherine, your words cut me deep."
Jo shakes her head. “I don’t know, Kate, you guys definitely seem to fight like brother and sister.” She walks forward, leaving Katherine and I standing at the end of the dock.
Katherine is facing me, and I lean in close, my mouth near her ear, wrapping my hand around her wrist. “Don’t lie. You can’t stop thinking about my cock. Tell her how much you moaned when I was inside --”
“You’re a pig,” she whispers. I can see her jaw clench.