SCORE (A Stepbrother Sports Romance)

“Oh, baby,” she managed to shout, “do my ass again, quickly!”


I willed myself to pull out of her. I pushed my dick between her ass cheeks again and fucked. My dick pushed hard between those smooth buttocks and felt so amazing. In seconds, the first jet of cum arced up over her back and landed between her shoulder blades.

“Oh, baby, that’s it,” she purred, reaching back and jerking my cock for me. “Shoot your load all over my ass. Cover my ass with your hot cum.”

I swear I nearly lost consciousness. Despite my powerful orgasm by the side of the road, I dumped wave after wave of thick, white jizz all over her sexy butt before collapsing onto my side, exhausted.

“Mmm,” sighed Summer, not moving. She stayed still, my sticky, white emissions cooling on her naked ass and back. “I swear I’ve never met anyone who can come as much as you.”

“You mean often?” I asked her.

“No, volume.” She smiled. “There must be gallons covering me.”

“You exaggerate charmingly,” I told her. “I’ll get you a towel.” I got up and headed into the bathroom.

“And it lands on me like hot lava,” she continued.

“Well, never having been in a situation where I’ve been jizzed on, I’ll take your word for it.”

“Trust me, baby,” she reassured me, “you should feel proud.”



It was still only the afternoon. Lunch wasn’t too long ago so neither of us really wanted to leave this room again. We refreshed ourselves with overpriced minibar drinks and snacks. We talked, we laughed. We tried to shower together but ended up fucking again, standing up, from behind. So we tried a bath; she straddled me until we cried out together in orgasm again.

Eventually, the sun set behind the surrounding mountains, and we’d expended enough energy to want some dinner. I ordered whatever the day’s special was from the hotel’s kitchens, and they brought us a large pot of locro, a thick Argentinian stew of beef, corn, beans, and potatoes, loaves of crusty bread, and a bottle of Carménère, a peculiar red wine from over the border in Chile. It was like a cabernet, only there was practically no tannin taste at all. It was far from the best red out there, but I liked it because it was unusual.

We dug in and, happily, Summer approved of my selections. We ate and drank on the bed, dressed in soft, white hotel robes.

“So,” she began, in between chews, “you think you’re in love with me?”

I stared at her incredulously for a second, then we both burst out laughing. “That was a novel way to bring up a touchy subject,” I told her.

“I thought so.” She smiled.

I thought for a moment before saying, “I don’t know, to tell the truth. I guess I could be. I’m not sure I know what it feels like to be in love. Do I want to be away from you? No. Do I spend most of the time I’m not with you thinking about being with you? Yes.” I moved my face closer to hers. “Do I want there to be a single day in my future that I’m not inside you? Definitely no.” She smiled her sexiest smile and kissed me on the mouth, long and hard. “If that’s love, then I guess I’m guilty.”

She was quiet for a moment, turning over my words in her mind. Then she said, “Good to know.”

“So,” I began this time, “how do you want to do this? Long distance?”

“Do you really think that could work?”

“I don’t know. Apart from the fact that you live in Austin and my home is Monterey, I spend about six months out of the year at various racetracks around the world,” I pointed out. “Would you quit your job and come live in California?”

“And wait at home to hear you’ve been hurt or killed?” she said, suddenly sounding hostile. “Like I did with my father?”

“Goddammit.” I swore softly. “I wasn’t thinking…I didn’t mean it like that. You could come on the circuit with me. Luxury hotels, champagne, jet-setting from San Marino to Qatar to Australia? What do you think?”

Her anger appeared to have subsided. She chewed her lip for a minute. “It sounds inviting, but I think you’re assuming I’m going to give up my career, which I’ve worked damn hard for, to follow you around like a lovesick kitten. It’s both old-fashioned and faintly patronizing.” Then she added, “darling,” with a forced smile.

I was somehow screwing up this relationship before it started. I hoped it wasn’t a pattern of things to come. “Okay, Summer.” I threw my hands up. “What do you suggest?”

“I don’t know,” she replied. “You’re the billionaire. Can’t you just buy up my whole block in Austin? Then we can go sleep in separate houses when we piss each other off?”

“Like now?”

“Like now.”