Cold Sweat

by Vera Valentine

I was sure he was lingering around the kitchen, waiting to torment me on one of his rare days off from his under-the-table demolition job.

A giant, sentient glass pitcher of cherry Chill-Assist punch, Red was the result of Dan’s torrid affair with a pallet of the drink powder at a drunken office Christmas party many years ago.

he hadn’t so much as stained a throw pillow since he’d moved in and he always smelled amazing, like sweet, juicy fruit.

I’m a man that happens to be a glass pitcher of liquid, not blind. You’re gorgeous.” Oh.

my fingers were adrenaline-cold as they reached for something I had absolutely no business touching: my stepbrother’s glass cock.

“I swell when I come, Jules, so be ready for it. You’re a tight fit but you’re going to take it all, aren’t you? Gonna fill you up to the top…my good little cup…”

“So. Fucking. Perfect. You’re gonna fucking drain me Jules…I’m gonna quench…I’m gonna…ohh…ohhhhhh….” OH YEAH!

“Jules, Jules, relax. I’m sugar free, you’re fine, I promise. It’s not blood, it’s just…me. I guess it’s cum too, at least when I get off. I have to jerk off in the shower all the time so I don’t tie-dye my sheets and it’s a pain in the ass. But it’s definitely not…yanno…other stuff. Gross stuff.”

“Do you realize how often I’m going to have to top off my punch now, baby? I’m going to pump so much into you, pour it all over you, every fucking chance you give me.”