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He's used by a dominant wife and his boss.

Iris finally took her place, sliding her impressive figure into the wooden chair. She made herself comfortable and shot her dark eyes down the table, eventually finding Sarah.

For a single moment, the two blondes started at one another in silence, each sizing the other up.

"Well hello, you're certainly a fresh face. You must be here with my brother Brad," Iris concluded, her words cheery and hospitable.

Hearing that long-absent voice speak his name so casually sent a strong shiver down Brad's spine.

A cold sweat began to form across Brad's brow as he struggled to keep his breaths from devolving into fevered pants. Even worse, a long-dormant sensation was growing between his thighs; it was a feeling he knew all too well.

Brad looked away from his step-sister and down at his half-eaten plate. He felt a sickening tightness within his core as he realized his glob of thin mashed potatoes closely resembled that of a fresh male orgasm.

"I am," Sarah responded just as politely. "We've known each other for a few weeks, but recently things have been going really well," she stated, blushing, as she reached for Brad's hand.

The touch of fresh skin against his own caused Brad to jump in place; his fork made a loud clang against the ceramic plate.

Iris' gaze darted at her step-brother, instantly recognizing his discomfort. At this, she couldn't strip the grin from her plump lips.

"Babe, are you ok?" Sarah asked concerned, now aware that something seemed to be troubling her new boyfriend.

On his left side, Brad's hand was gripping the edge of his wooden seat to hold him steady. A burning erection had awoken between his jean-covered legs and air began to escape him in desperate gasps.

"I j-just... I don't feel so well," Brad barely got out, his entire world now focused on the woman sitting directly across from him. He lurched up from his seat and made his way hastily from the table. He didn't even look back to face Sarah as he mouthed a shaky explanation, "I-I need to use the restroom; e-excuse me."

"Just make it to the fucking bathroom...," Brad frantically thought to himself, working one foot in front of the other before, at last, he walked into the restroom and closed the door behind him.

Without wasting a moment, his hands unbuttoned the restricting jeans and threw them down to his ankles. As soon as his boxers had followed suit, his throbbing erection burst forth from out of its prison.

Brad has been careful to choose the bathroom at the furthest end of the house, the one that any visitors would be the least likely to use. With this fragile comfort in mind, he spit into his right hand and gripped his aching sex tightly, beginning to go to work on himself.

The first stroke was something incredible; it was a sensation he hadn't know since that night in the hotel bathroom with Iris. By his hand's third trip down his throbbing cock, Brad's mind was swimming with images of that cold bathroom stale, his legs spread out wide at his step-sister's command.

Before he could really get himself worked up, the copper knob on the bathroom door began to twist.

Brad's hand retreated in a flash away from his pulsating cock, but he wouldn't be quick enough to reach for the pants around his ankles.

Iris, and her tight red dress, darted into the bathroom and clicked the small lock closed behind her.

Brad could only stand, petrified, as his step-sister worked her vision up and down his frame eagerly, the dark eyes taking particular notice of the exposed shaft bulging forth underneath his undone dress shirt.

"Well now isn't this something...," Iris began while taking a step closer to Brad. "I'm a bit confused; out there you said you weren't feeling well..." she took another long stride toward her step-brother, "but from the looks of it, you're feeling just fine. Even better, I'd say."

Brad shuffled backwards clumsily in a poor effort to retreat from Iris' advances, doing his best not to stumble on the clothes limiting his movement from around h

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