My Step Sister And I: Pregnant For Me novel Chapter 50

I couldn't explain it. He was so clean-cut, and boyish, and seemingly innocent, a good, friendly, nice guy. Ugh... boring, right? But when I would see him, being the fucking perfect guy, all I could think about was that he had to have a dark side.

He HAD to. He couldn't actually be perfect. He had to have some sort of character flaw. Maybe he was a freak in the bedroom, but I couldn't even imagine him fucking. He no doubt made sweet, nice love to his pretty wife on a bed of flowers in the sunshine, while birds sang. I couldn't imagine that mouth of his in a snarl, fucking some slut hard.

I couldn't imagine his muscles taut with need. I couldn't imagine his cute butt flexing. I couldn't imagine hearing him growl in my ear, voice heavy with lust. I couldn't imagine his small, manly hands on my large breasts, squeezing them, taking them like a man. I would squeeze his butt hard as he fucked me, screaming at him to take me like a slut, bite my nipples, squeeze my huge fucking tits, and take me like the stud he was. God, I would let him do it all to me. I would let him try to make a good woman out of me.

Yeah, that's how it kinda started...

Despite my best efforts, for some reason, he would keep popping up in my dreams. My fantasies. At some point, the wires in my brain got crossed, and suddenly a guy like him became the object of my lust. He was hot, okay! I admit it!

As annoying as I found him, I couldn't look at him without my thoughts devolving into thoughts of sex. Thoughts of sex with him. Thoughts of all the bad things I could teach a good bad boy like him. Whispers of his butt and his noticeable bulge were commonplace in the office, and even I wasn't immune.

I hated myself for it. I hated myself for wanting him. I hated that a boring ole nice guy could get my juices stirring. He was the type of guy my mom would approve of. UGH! I hated that I, just like all the rest, was susceptible to his charms. I should know better. I could see through him, but it didn't make a God damn difference. I hated the guy, but I wanted the dick.

Oh, did I ever want that fat married dick of his. I would inhale the shaft, cradle the balls, and swallow the load. I would blow his fucking mind with the things I could do. Thoughts of draining his balls into each and every one of my holes became commonplace.

He was nice to everyone, even me. He had no reason to like me. He barely knew me, but he would be perfectly willing to chat me up, even though everyone knew about my... reputation. Some others at his level knew enough to stay away from me, but he wasn't afraid to talk me up. I would be polite and cordial, but I had trouble hiding my annoyance, and I'm sure he could sense it. But that never stopped him from being friendly to me. That never stopped him from saying hello. And when he'd walk away from me, I'd roll my eyes at him in annoyance as my juices dripped down my legs.

On one hand, I couldn't stand him and didn't want to be anywhere near him. On the other, I wanted to spread my legs for him, let him use me like a cheap fucking whore, and have all of his babies.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

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