One Step Ahead

© B. N. Lee, 2015

All rights reserved.

Any resemblance to any person, real or fictional, has been totally accidental on the part of the author.

Many thanks to my wonderful cover designer.

To my husband:

A kinder man, you’ll never meet. He’d have to be, to put up with me writing all the time!

-
     
B. N. Lee

“Your mother married well,” a teacher told her with a smirk. “Of course, to support all those kids, she’d have to. She’s lucky she’s so pretty…”

Amy blushed bright red, and the other students tittered.

Her small town high school was totally abuzz with the news that the poor Lee widow with five kids had married Jesse Johnson, the richest man in town, after a few months of dating.

“When it’s love, it’s love,” Amy’s mother and new stepfather said to the world.

Privately, Jesse Johnson made it politely clear that even if their mother had married him for his money, too bad, it wasn’t hers.

He described the prenup as “iron-clad” protection: everything went to the kids. His kids. The ones from his first marriage.

Amy had wanted to ask her mother why she’d marry a man who was with her in spite of her kids instead of one who loved them all and wanted to be part of the whole family.

She didn’t bother.

Her mother hadn’t always been inscrutable... Ever since Amy’s father died ten years before, though, leaving her mother with five small kids and a mountain of debt, it had felt like her mother got more distant every day.

Besides. Jesse wasn’t locking them outside with bread and gruel. He was making the kids share bedrooms by age and gender, not by birth parents (so Amy and Jessica, as the oldest girls, got the first choice of bedrooms). He took the Lee kids on shopping trips for the same swanky clothing his own kids got, and he got them their own top-of-the-line phones and computers.

They were invited on every trip, got every souvenir.

The Johnsons just made it clear that they may get the baubles, the fancy little trappings of wealth, but the Lee kids wouldn’t be getting a Johnson inheritance.

They
certainly
weren’t getting the Johnson name.

Hell, it had been six months that they’d all lived together in the mansion, and Amy hadn’t even met the oldest Johnson kid - a guy named Josh, maybe a year older than her.

Amy didn’t think she would any time soon. She was alone in the big house,
finally.

She’d been arguing for months that she didn’t need to go on every weekend trip, she had a lot of homework.

Finally, her new stepfather, laughing, agreed with her. Her mother shrugged, and said that if
Jesse
thought it was okay, then Amy could stay home alone for the weekend.

So, finally, there she was.

She was barely eighteen, legally an adult, but with a house full of siblings, she'd never really had time alone to explore her body. She knew that she craved it. She'd touched herself through her clothing in stolen minutes, hiding in closets or the attic, but always with the fear of getting caught keeping her from finding out what she really wanted to know: What it felt like to have something inside her.

She locked the room and climbed onto her bed. She was wearing a t-shirt, bra, and a skirt, and she'd gotten a pair of items to try from her bathroom. There was a thick toothbrush and a hairbrush with an even thicker handle.

She knew that she should strip, but even with the door locked and her new stepsister gone for the weekend, she was afraid to get naked and have that much freedom to explore herself.

'Why not?' she finally thought, 'This is my room and I am an adult, why can't I be naked?'

She giggled and stepped off the bed, stripping out of her clothing and blushing at her own daring.

She sat cross-legged on her bed again and, shivering a little with nerves, began to touch her breasts.

Carefully, she cupped them and then stroked the nipples, shutting her eyes and pretending that it was a handsome man with his hands on her, teasing her own nipples to hard little nubs and gasping at the pleasure it brought her.

She pinched them a little, she'd read that that was fun, and winced at the pain... but she felt a tingling between her legs as her body responded to the touch.

One of her hands wandered south and began to tease her neatly-trimmed blonde pubic bush. She knew that shaving was something that only sluts did, but she didn't see the harm in a little maintenance, she liked the way it looked, and it made her feel racy and bold.

For almost the first time in her life, Amy's finger slowly parted the folds of skin between her legs and she slid a finger from the crest down to her moistening entrance.

She shivered as she felt the soft brush over the hard little button at above her entrance. She didn't know quite what it was, but she had rubbed it through her clothing before and it had brought her incredible pleasure.

Ashamed and excited by her own daring, she spread her legs and lay back on the pillows, running her finger in little paths and circles, up her thighs and back down to the little button of pleasure, down to her entrance to feel how wet she was getting without sneaking inside, trailing her fingers this way and that.

Of course, she could go straight to that little spot and rub it until she felt happy and sleepy, she knew that, but she'd heard whispers for so long that it felt good to have things inside your little pussy, she wanted to find out for herself.

She'd never seen a man's penis before, not in person, but she wasn’t a total idiot and she’d taken sex ed, and the handles of her toothbrush and hairbrush were probably her best bet. Or, at least, she couldn’t find anything better.

'Am I really about to do this?' she thought to herself.

Her hands shook a little as she picked up the toothbrush. She carefully put the base of the handle at her entrance and started to push it inside herself.

It didn't feel nice at all, she thought. It felt cold and alien and hard.

She persevered and tried to push it deeper inside her, but her body resisted it. She knew that she wanted it inside her, but her body seemed to be pushing it out as hard as she pushed it in.

She was so frustrated she was ready to cry, and she was still so desperate! She'd felt this way before and knew that she wanted to touch herself, wanted badly release from this awful pressure, but she also knew that there was nothing that was going to stop her from feeling something inside her pussy.

With a lot of effort, gritting her teeth, she got two or three inches of it inside her virgin passage. She decided that it had to be enough for now, and started working it in and out of her body. That felt a little nicer, but the edges of the square handle still felt hard and unpleasant against her tender flesh, and she winced and shut her eyes tightly.

The feeling was so distracting that she didn't hear the handle of her door turn.

Her eyes flew open and she saw a handsome young man stepping into the room. She was trapped and exposed and had no way to pretend that she was doing anything other than what she was doing - masturbating with a toothbrush!

As she struggled to cover herself, the part of the toothbrush sticking out of her body caught in the blanket and yanked it upwards inside her, and she cried out with pain.

She almost burst into tears, and she couldn't even look at the young man, although she'd heard the door shut.

"Hey, easy," he said, "Just hold still. My name is Josh, I’m your stepbrother. It’s perfectly fine. We’re siblings, right?"

She was used to obeying men, and he had a strong masculine voice, low and soothing.

She held still and clutched the blanket over herself, hiding her face as a single tear rolled down her cheek.

"What's so upsetting?" he asked, sitting down on the end of her bed. The shift of the mattress moved the toothbrush inside her again and she winced.

"You, you've seen me," she gulped. She couldn't even say it.

"It's natural to want to explore your body," the young man said, "I've done it myself. Does it feel good?"

Truth was as natural to Amy as breathing. She shook her head.

"It just hurt," she muttered.

"Can I take a look?" he asked, gently.

Deciding that her situation couldn't get any more embarrassing, she nodded and lowered the blanket, exposing her naked body to a man for the first time in her life.

It was mortifying, being caught with a toothbrush three inches inside her pussy, but it was also thrilling to finally have a handsome man see her totally bare. She'd been looking forward to it for so long, she couldn't help but be pleased.

She looked at his face, anxiously trying to decide if he liked what he saw.

"You're so pretty," he said, and she was relieved. The only thing worse than a man catching her like this was a man catching her and thinking she was ugly or strange.

"Okay, what's your name?" he asked.

"Amy," she said quietly.

"Well, Amy, are you trying to use a hairbrush inside yourself?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Did you prepare yourself at all?" he asked. "Tease yourself, get yourself ready?"

She blushed hard.

"Um, I touched my nipples and between my legs," she said.

"For how long?" he asked.

"Maybe... a minute?" she said, unsure.

"That's not long at all. I see your hairbrush, were you going to try that next?" he asked.

She simply nodded.

"Okay, may I offer some advice?" he asked, and she nodded again.

"The hairbrush looks big and scary, but it's softer and rounder than the toothbrush, I think that it would actually be a lot easier on you. Would you like me to help you?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, surprising herself. She knew that she shouldn't let a man touch her before they were married, but she also knew that she couldn't wait any longer, she was desperate and wanting, and he was being so kind to her.

"All right, I'm going to start touching you, you need to tell me if I do anything you don't like," he said.

He reached out and carefully pulled the toothbrush out of her and set it aside, and then he gently cupped her breasts in both hands.

"You have beautiful breasts, Amy," he said.

She didn't say anything, only shut her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of his warm strong hands against her soft flesh.

As she lay there, he carefully massaged her breasts and then started to tease her nipples, rolling them between his fingers and then pinching them a little, harder than she had.

She gasped, and he stopped.

"Some girls like their nipples pinched and some don't, Amy, what do you think? Do you like it?" he asked.