Page 3 of Longing for the Minotaur
“I’m not trying to keep my sports scholarship,” I say. “I’m there to learn, and I’m going to get my grades honestly.”
For a second, it looks like I’ve hurt him. “I earned my grades honestly,” he says.
“Sure.” I look at Dad for support. We’ve always joked about how Banon is a bit of a muscle head, and in high school, it got him a pass when it came to grades.
“Banon worked hard in college,” Dad says instead, a disapproving tone to his voice. “Just like you’re doing now.”
Marissa gives me a reproachful look, too, and I stare down at my food.
Jeez. I didn’t think everyone would get so offended by something I thought was obvious.
Conversation turns to football, and Banon talks about his performance at the last game. He thinks next year he’ll move up to captain of the team. I pick my food apart as everyone talks, still feeling guilty, and then getting mad that I feel guilty.
“So, you guys going to stay the night?” Dad asks while Marissa pulls out the Jell-O she made.
Banon chuckles. “Yeah, I probably shouldn’t be driving.”
Damn it. I didn’t think about that when we all started drinking—that I wouldn’t make it back to the dorm tonight. I like my roommate, and I like having my own space. My childhood bedroom reminds me too much of my loser years, of the person I was in high school who was tormented by classmates and who had no real friends.
“Fine,” I say, scooping myself some Jell-O. I don’t speak until I’m done, then I get up from the table, put my plate in the dishwasher, and head down the hallway.
“Going to bed?” Banon calls out.
“Yeah.” I don’t want to open my mouth and risk further humiliation tonight. “See you in the morning.”
Then I’ll see if I can get a ride home to campus from Dad or Marissa instead.
Everyone says goodnight, and I duck into my old room, shutting the door firmly behind me. Then I stumble to my bed, my head swimming from all the booze I had tonight, and flop onto it. At least I still have the comforter I like here, and the mattress is definitely nicer than the one I have back at the dorm.
Unfortunately, though, I moved all my sex toys to campus, so I have nothing here to quell the itch that’s formed in my lower abdomen. Seeing Banon does this to me, much to my misfortune. I know I shouldn’t think of him like this, my own fuckingstepbrother, but I can’t help it.
I push off my pants and toss them aside, then drag my hand down between my legs. It’s easy to summon an image that’s been imprinted on my mind since I was fourteen.
I heard when Banon and Lillian stumbled into the house on prom night. They had both been drinking—that much was clear by their slurred whispering as they passed my room to get to Banon’s. We share a bathroom, our rooms separated by Jack and Jill doors, so it was easy for me to spy on them. All I had to do was push open Banon’s door just a hair and peer through.
There, I saw the entire thing. Banon taking off his clothes while Lillian did the same. It was the first time I’d seen my stepbrother completely naked, his thick, immense cock hard and pointing out. Lillian had stroked it a few times before she got to her knees and then sucked him off.
I’d wondered then what he tasted like. Did she enjoy it? I don’t personally love giving blowjobs, but she seemed really into it.
And then, Banon had picked her up, carried her to the bed, and laid back on it before ripping open a condom and slipping it on. She climbed atop his lap, took his cock in her small human hands, and guided it inside her.
I remember every single vivid detail, her pussy spread immensely wide around him, his cum dripping down from the condom. His cock glistened in the low light as it moved in and out of her, and though she tried to keep quiet, her cries grew louder and louder.
Oh, how I had wished it was me. I was still a virgin then, but I’d watched enough porn to understand sex.
No porn compared to that moment, though. Seeing Banon thrust his hips up, burying his cock inside her, had nearly undone me.
It’s easy to remember it, blotting out Lillian’s face and replacing it with my own as I touch myself. My finger speeds up, imagining that thick cock insideme, filling me obscenely, driving me closer and closer to the finish line. My hand shakes wildly as I get more riled up, until my orgasm is so close I can almost touch it.
Then, there comes a knock at my door. My hand freezes.
“Tina?” says a quiet voice on the other side.
Banon.
CHAPTER
TWO
