Out Of Our System

Charlie and Nadia figured the whole stepsibling thing would blow over. Two teens stuck under one roof after their parents said 'I do'—big whoop. But then parents left them alone for the weekend and bam: old flames, new house rules, zero supervision. They'd been together before anyone put rings on anyone else's finger. Secret handjobs behind the bleachers, clumsy make-outs in movie theaters, but never the deed. Now every hallway feels like foreplay they didn't sign up for. So they did the only rational, totally insane thing: they made a plan. Screw once, kill the itch, call it good. Just a biological fix before breakfast. Nadia slipped off her shorts right in the kitchen, bent over the island like she was checking the fruit bowl. Charlie yanked his sweats down and pushed in before either could chicken out. She was wetter than she expected; he was harder than either admitted later. They went slow at first, then fast, the slap of skin loud against the cabinets. Afterward they stood there panting, shorts half on, cereal boxes staring at them. Mission accomplished, right? Problem solved? Except Nadia's pulse hadn't calmed and Charlie already felt himself stiffen again when she licked a drop of sweat off her upper lip. So maybe 'once' didn't quite cut it. Maybe the tree they planned to chop down had just grown another branch.