Chapter 22 - The Orgy

The sudden eruption of female voices from the front hall snapped Steve from his thoughts. He turned just as the kitchen was flooded with women, a chorus of laughter and the rustle of shopping bags filling the air. It was his entire family: his mom, Susan with his sisters Mia and Zoé; Aunt Charlotte with her daughters, his half-sisters Sophia and Violet; Aunt Evelyn with her daughters, and his half-sisters Nora and Lily.

“Bro!” Violet’s voice cut through the chatter. She dropped her bags with a thump and launched herself across the room, leaping into his arms and wrapping her legs around his waist. The force of her impact made him stagger back a step. “I’ve dreamed of finally calling you that,” she whispered hotly into his ear before her teeth found his earlobe, nibbling and sending a jolt of electricity straight to his already-stirring cock.

Before he could even process Violet’s warm weight and the press of her 36C perky breasts against his chest, Nora was there. She delivered a sharp smack to Violet’s denim-clad ass, the sound cracking through the room. Violet tensed against him, a low “Mmmnpfh!” of surprised pleasure escaping her lips.

“Hey! Don’t you fucking monopolize him, you greedy slut!” Nora chided, her intense blue eyes flashing with playful challenge.

Violet reluctantly uncoiled her legs and slid down his body, her descent a deliberate, friction-filled sensual slip against his jeans that made his breath hitch. She pouted but made way as the other women surged forward, a wave of feminine energy and familiar, intoxicating scents.

Steve’s almost panted like a dog as the onslaught began. One after another, the nine women descended on him with a frenzy of lips, hands, and bodies that left him reeling. Each kiss was deeper, wetter, and more possessive than the last, their tongues tangling with his in a series of sloppy, glrk-glrk noises that echoed in the confined space. Their hands roamed freely—kneading his chest, clawing at his back, squeezing his ass—while their breasts pressed against him from every angle, soft and unyielding, smothering him in a cocoon of feminine warmth.

Sophia was among the first, her lithe body grinding against his as she captured his mouth with a hunger that left him gasping. “Missed you, cousin,” she purred, her voice thick with need. Her hand slid boldly down to cup the growing bulge in his jeans, giving it a firm, promising squeeze that made his knees buckle. He could feel the heat of her palm through the denim, and the pressure, the delicious torture, had him harder than chinese calculus.

“Where’s your father?” Susan purred, her voice dripping with a sultry tone that sent shivers down Steve’s spine. She lingered close, her tongue still tasting of the minty toothpaste they’d shared in a kiss that had left them both breathless. Her lips curved into a mischievous smile as she licked her own lips, savoring the remnants of their intimate moment.

“He said he needed a nap before the party,” Steve replied, his voice slightly hoarse and his eyes still glazed from the intoxicating attention he’d been receiving. The room erupted into a chorus of feminine laughter, their giggles ringing like bells in his ears.

“I’ll wake him!” Lily declared with a wink, her hips swaying seductively as she strutted out of the kitchen. Her confidence was palpable, and the way her jeans hugged her curves made Steve’s jaw tighten. He couldn’t help but watch as she disappeared down the hall, her footsteps echoing with purpose.

“No funny stuff with your father, you hear? Save it for the party!” Evelyn called after her, her tone a mix of sternness and amusement. Her hands were on her hips, and her eyes sparkled with playful authority.

“Oh poo!” Lily’s voice floated back, dripping with mock disappointment. The room erupted into laughter again, the sound rich and warm, wrapping around Steve like a cozy blanket.

The kitchen was a whirlwind of activity as the women began emptying their shopping bags, pulling out cookware and ingredients for the party’s meal. Steve, still reeling from the earlier onslaught, decided on a strategic retreat after being jostled twice by his cousins-turned-half-sisters. The press of their bodies—accidental or otherwise—was too much to handle, and he needed a moment to collect himself.

As he slipped out of the kitchen, the doorbell rang, cutting through the cacophony of laughter and clinking dishes. “I’ll get it!” he called over his shoulder, his voice loud enough to carry over the din. He strode to the front door, his heart still racing, and pulled it open to reveal his grandma, Heather, standing on the porch.

Before she could even open her mouth to greet him, Steve acted on impulse. He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her inside, his lips crashing down onto hers in a kiss that was anything but grandmotherly. He poured all his soul and pent-up energy of the day into one heated moment. His tongue pressed insistently against her lips, demanding entry, and she gasped into his mouth, her surprise quickly melting into something far more sexual.