I pulled open the door, expecting my usual breakfast. It was there, but the tray was perched on top of a box.
I carried the tray inside and then grabbed the box. It was plain and unassuming and was wrapped in a red satin bow. There was a card attached, which I quickly opened.
Natalie, For old memories and for new ones. Yours, Lucas.
I frowned at that. What did it even mean? And why the heck was Lucas sending me presents?
I quickly tore off the paper and pulled off the lid.
Inside, I found underwear.
Black, lacy, sexy underwear. Bras and matching panties, and all of it my size.
Underneath them was the dress I had worn the night I went to his room. I put the underwear aside and pulled the dress out. There, staring me in the face, was the cum stain.
“Gross,” I said, tossing the dress aside.
At least the note finally made sense.
What an asshole. Part of me felt angry as hell that he would send me something like that. What was he trying to do, rub my face in that dress? I’d already pegged him for an egotistical jerk, but I hadn’t thought he was genuinely mean as well.
But as soon as I looked back at the underwear, I felt the other half of my emotions: pure, unbridled excitement.
Lust burned through my chest, and I felt my skin tingle.
I bit my lip, shaking my head. It was the exact response that he wanted. He wanted me to get turned on, to think about him stripping those sexy panties off my body slowly, about his tongue and fingers working me. He wanted me to remember the way his cock tasted, the way he came so hard, his grunts and groans.
He wanted me to get soaking wet. And as much as I hated him for it, I was reacting exactly as predicted.
I sat down on the couch, drinking the coffee that had been delivered on my breakfast tray. My last attempt at getting him back had completely backfired; I needed to think of something much better.
It hit me almost all at once. I looked at the underwear again, frowning. There were four pairs; I decided to choose two. Quickly, I stripped off my sweatpants and slid on a frilly black pair.
I sat back down on the couch and spread my legs wide, closing my eyes. I let my mind begin to wander.
I thought about the night in the limo, his fingers inside me. He was a gorgeous stranger back then, and the danger of it only enhanced my excitement. My pussy got soaking wet remembering how incredible it had felt to let him get me off.
And I began to rub my clit through the panties. It was so dirty, so dangerous to want him, to touch myself wearing the panties he had sent me. The danger only made me that much more aroused, though, as pleasure moved through me.
I continued rubbing myself as I thought about the way his cock tasted. I loved how he had taken control that night, grabbing my ass, moving me to the couch, fucking my mouth, sucking my clit.
I wanted him. God, I still wanted him so badly. I hated myself a tiny bit for that, since I knew that he knew it, that he had planned for all this. I was his secret wife, his stepsister, his sexual conquest, and I loved it, wanted more of it. I was drunk on him.
I moved faster, slipping a hand down my panties to slide a finger deep inside myself as I began to rub my clit. I was soaking, the panties themselves absolutely wrecked and dripping. I wasn’t thinking about that, though. My plan was suddenly completely forgotten as I imagined what he could do to me.
Sliding his cock between my legs. Maybe I’d let him fuck me on the desk of the empty classroom. I wanted to feel him take me from behind, to fuck me roughly up against a wall. He could grab my hands and hold them down as he fucked me, whispering all those delicious, dirty words in my ear.
Pleasure bloomed through my whole body. It was so dangerous, so wrong, to want my stepbrother to fuck me roughly, to use me until I was begging for more. I’d never had a secret like him before, and I never knew that I wanted one. But I loved my secret marriage, loved how badly I wanted my secret husband.
I came, slowly at first, my body twitching, my muscles tensing, thinking about him. He made me smile. He made me wet. He made me feel things I’d never felt before.
And finally, the orgasm passed over. I lay back on the couch, slipping my hands from the panties. They were sufficiently soaked, and I was sufficiently tired.
I glanced over at the pile of underwear and frowned.
Only one more pair to go, thankfully. Maybe this would teach him for being such an arrogant asshole.
Fantasy was okay. Fantasy was fun, even. But me and Lucas didn’t live in a fantasy world, and everything around us was so, so dangerous. As soon as the orgasm began to fade, my anger at him returned tenfold. He couldn’t take such big risks like sending me underwear and a cum-stained dress. He couldn’t be inviting me to his room.
And I probably shouldn’t be sending him my used panties, but I couldn’t help myself.