Member-only story
After all the times I secretly watched my stepbrother with his girlfriend, something shifted inside me. I couldn’t stop fantasizing about him, the way he moved, the way he took control. I started craving his attention, wondering what it would feel like if all that focus was on me. Slowly, I got bolder, testing the waters in my own way.
I began wearing more revealing clothes around the house — short skirts without panties, loose tops that barely covered my breasts. I’d stretch a little too far, bend a little too low, giving him fleeting glimpses of my body. At first, I wasn’t sure if he noticed, but then I caught him looking — his gaze lingering on my legs, on the way my shirt clung to me.
One afternoon, I decided to take it further. I was in the living room, sitting on the couch in a loose skirt, my legs crossed casually. He walked in, and as we talked, I slowly uncrossed my legs, letting the skirt slide up just enough to reveal my shaved pussy. His eyes widened for a moment, but he quickly looked away, pretending not to notice. My heart raced, the thrill of it sending a jolt through my body.
I acted innocent, pretending it wasn’t deliberate, but I knew he’d seen. After that, everything changed. He started coming to my room more often, finding excuses to talk or hang out. His eyes would wander, and I’d make sure to give him plenty to look at — sitting on my bed with my legs tucked under me, my shirt slipping off my shoulder, or bending over to pick something up, letting my skirt ride up.
