The last days of my final year at school. All I had ahead of me now were the final few exams and then a long summer of freedom before I had to decide what to do with my life. I had no idea what I wanted to do, but was pretty sure I didn’t want to end up working in the pub like mum.

My mind was still running through my options as I walked up the path to our front door, weaving around the bits of old car engine that Sean, my stepdad, had left strewn across the tiny space outside the front of the house. I sighed with resignation at the mess. Perhaps someday he would get off his backside and fix the car as he had promised Mum, but I couldn’t see it being prioritised over days spent in the pub and at the bookies.

Pushing open the front door, I heard whistling coming from the kitchen. Assuming it was Sean, I called out a welcome; only for Dean, my sister’s husband, to announce his presence with a cheery greeting. Entering the small kitchen, I saw him on his back under the sink, his lean, muscular frame outlined in the tight grey t-shirt. Dean explained that my mum had asked him to fix a leaking pipe and that he had time this afternoon, given work on the building site was on hold until some inspections were complete.

I had a serious crush on Bianca’s husband, and the looks he gave me whenever we saw each other fuelled a series of fantasies as I lay in bed at night. Watching him, and seeing the outline of his flaccid, but obviously powerful, member against the rip-stop fabric of his cargo pants, I could feel a tingling feeling spread through my core.

Whilst Dean worked away, I hopped up onto the kitchen counter, positioning myself so that I was in his line of sight each time he looked up. Like all the girls in my year at school, I had rolled up the tartan uniform skirt so that it only just covered my pert teenage bum; perched on the counter, I made sure it had ridden up even further. Chatting away, I pulled down on the back of my blue school shirt so that it was pulled tighter across my boobs.

The desired result had been achieved; with increasing frequency, my sister’s husband glanced up at me, his eyes drawn to the exposed flesh of my firm thighs and the swell of my chest. His tone was increasingly flirtatious, his glances up longer and longer, drawn like a moth to the flame. Slowly, I parted my thighs just a little, my shapely legs, clad in knee-length white socks, dangling enticingly over the side of the worktop.

The flirting was mutual. My eyes met his. I could feel myself dampening, the tingle heightening. I inched my thighs wider apart, exposing the white cotton of my knickers. His Adam’s apple worked as he caught sight of them for the first time. Holding his gaze, I stretched my school tie tight in the valley between my breasts and spread my legs just a little wider. Dean’s cock stirred in the confines of his cargo pants.

We had stopped talking. The silence felt electric. Lips parted a little, I ran slender fingers down onto the hem of my tartan school skirt and eased the material up even further so that it was no more than a wide belt on the top of my thighs, which I inched a little further apart. The dampness on my white cotton knickers was plain for Dean to see as he stared hungrily at me. He cleared his throat and propped himself up on his elbows, a slight bulge now evident against the rip-top stop material.

Wordlessly, he stood and closed towards me. He loomed over me, his work-hardened body outlined against the tight T-shirt. “I’m married to your sister,” he murmured, eyes roaming across my tight little body before coming to rest on mine.

“And yet, you are fucking our mum,” I whispered in an even tone, my finger tracing across his pecs, my eyes full of amusement.

“Who told you that?” he enquired with a raised eyebrow, prising open the top button on my school shirt.

“Kayleigh overheard Connor and Jase talking,” I confirmed, running my finger down over his washboard-tight stomach.

“Did she now?” he replied, undoing a second button. “You don’t seem to be bothered by that,” Dean observed, working on the third and revealing my white plunge bra.

“Oh, not bothered or even surprised, just feeling left out,” I pouted, my fingers deftly working free the button on the waistband of his cargo pants.

“Can’t have my wife’s baby sister feeling left out, can we?” Dean muttered, freeing the remaining buttons and slipping the shirt from my shoulders, causing me to stifle a sigh as he ran his hands over my soft skin.

“Not so little, it turns out.” He nodded, unhooking the V-cut design bra with its small, elegant bow between the cups. Cupping my soft, firm mounds in his calloused hands, he used both thumbs to tease across the dark brown areole, causing my bud-like nipples to harden to his touch.

“I could say the same,” I moaned softly, the sense of arousal heightening as he manipulated my pliant flesh, my fingers sliding into his boxers and finding his hardening shaft. Biting my lip, I drew down the zip of his cargo pants with my other hand.

“Make it bigger, Danni,” Dean growled, pulling me down from the worktop. With hands firm on my shoulders, he guided me onto my haunches, with my back against the cupboard door. As I balanced on the heels of my school shoes, his mobile tone broke the silence. With a wry grin, he reached down and fished the device from the side pocket of his cargo pants.

Motioning for me to get to work, he pressed receive and put the phone to his ear. “Hi, babe,” he answered, feeling me make a fist around his thick, veiny girth. His eyes closed briefly in response to me running the tip of my tongue repeatedly over his frenulum as my sister asked how he was getting on.

“All sorted with the leak, just needed a new washer,” Dean confirmed, his eyes encouraging me as I began to work the rock-hard shaft with my hand while kissing and licking my way over the frenulum and domed head of his cock. Looking up, I parted my lips and took him into my mouth.

“Well, Danni has just got home and asked me to help prepare for her next exam,” he continued, controlling his voice as I subjected his rigid length to a series of determined hand movements and swirled my tongue around the spongy mass that was filling my mouth.

“It’s some sort of oral test, and Danni needed someone to practice with,” Dean explained, watching me stretch my lips and sink my mouth onto his throbbing manhood, his spare hand stroking my head.

“You know me, babe, always happy to help out,” my brother-in-law responded to his wife, tensing slightly as I tickled his hairy balls and ran my tongue over the sensitive underside of his spongy mass. As I worked his cock, I slid the fingers of my other hand inside my cotton knickers and onto my hard nub.

“Reckon Danni’s going to nail this oral. I tell you, babe, your sis is a natural,” he mused, controlling his voice and running fingers through my dark hair as I bobbed up and down hungrily on his meaty shaft whilst toying myself to the same urgent rhythm.

“Anyway, gotta get on. Danni needs my undivided attention, babe,” Dean suggested to my sister, closing the call and placing the phone to one side. With a face set with determined lust, he motioned for me to get up.

Releasing his cock, I kept my hands on his hips for leverage and lifted from my haunches. Pulling my white cotton knickers down, I let them fall in a heap and stepped out from them. Hopping up on the worktop, I rested my bum on the Formica surface and spread my legs invitingly.

As Dean stepped forward, I reached for his rampant manhood and guided it onto my puffy labia. My eyes pleading with him, and I rubbed his glans up the length of my sopping mound. My brother looked at me, his breathing shallow and his jaw set. “Take me,” I whispered, placing slender fingers on his broad shoulders.

A low moan of arousal escaped my lips when Dean entered me, and my folds parted around the domed head of his cock. “So fucking tight,” my sister’s husband grunted, pushing himself home; my moan became an almost desperate sob when I felt my muscles stretching to accommodate his enormously thick manhood. And the sob became a high-pitched whimper when Dean pulled his cock slowly back, grabbed hold of hips, and thrust even deeper into me.

His eyes were boring into mine, and he held himself there. Fingers tight on his shoulders, I wrapped my legs around him so that the soft cotton of my white knee-length school socks brushed against his arse. “Fuck me,” I pleaded, looking up at him, my tight teenage body naked except for those long white socks and my school tie.

“I knew you were a dirty little slut,” Dean growled, gripping my hips tightly with his calloused fingers and thrusting into me with fluid drives of his pelvis. He went slowly at first, watching me try to adjust to the sensation of being filled and stretched by his thick, veiny girth. I moaned in response to each thrust, feeling myself beginning to lose control, the muscles in my stomach tensing and relaxing as my young body responded instinctively to his experienced movements.

His thrusts became more forceful, more urgent. Emitting a stream of high-pitched squeals, almost as if the air was being punched from me, I clung to him, my fingernails drawing blood as they dug into his shoulders.

Dean grunted in response, tightening his grip on my hips as he pounded into me with increasing determination. Arching my back, school tie flapping against my firm, round mounds, white cotton-clad calves wrapped around his back, I met his thrusts with my own, my tunnel muscles clenching around the shaft he was burying inside me, milking his fat cock in response to each powerful forward motion of his hips.

"Oh my God, Dean... I'm... I'm..." I groaned in a shaky voice as an intensely overwhelming sensation surged through my core. Before I could complete the sentence, my words turned into a scream of release, my body shuddering as my brother-in-law continued to pound into me.

Almost tenderly, Dean slowed and allowed me to slump on his chest. Once the trembling had subsided, he slipped his rock-hard member from inside me. Hauling me up from my recumbent position, my sister’s husband forced me down onto my knees in front of the bench. “Look at me, Danni,” he growled, closing his hand around a cock that was glistening with my juices.

Pert arse balanced on school shoes, I leant back, my bruised lips slightly parted and hands cupping my firm young breasts, between which my school tie hung provocatively. “Wank for your wife’s baby sister, Dean. I want your fat load all over my face,” I panted, watching his face tighten and his breathing change, his cock throbbing as he worked it with urgent movements of his wrist. Suddenly, with a deeply satisfied grunt of release, he ejaculated.

“Oh my God, give it to me,” I squealed as the first sticky rope of cum landed on an eyelash. The second and third splattered onto the bridge of my nose and lips. Dean groaned, pumping his cock furiously, and landing yet more cords of white mess on my chin, boobs, and onto my school tie.

“Bloody hell, Dean. You’ve got jizz on my school tie,” I complained, lifting the tie to show him the stain.

“I’m sure if you ask nicely, one of the teachers will add some more,” my brother-in-law chuckled, pulling cargo pants back up and retrieving his phone and house keys.

“Well, the headmaster did say he knew I must have a talent, but he hadn’t identified it yet.” I shrugged, watching Dean saunter off, whistling contentedly as he went.