SWEET SINS; A compilation of short erotica stories

Yasmin's POV

The next time I saw my younger stepbrothers again, my jaw nearly dropped.

I came home for Christmas, and getting there was a nightmare. I had to cancel appointments, rearrange meetings, and shift my entire schedule just to make it back. If I didn't, Mom would blow up my phone with endless calls, and my stepfather, Anthony, would launch into one of his long speeches about how important it was to spend time with family.

As frustrating as it could be sitting through their lectures and constant fussing, I loved them both. Especially Anthony. He had a way of understanding me that Mom never quite did.

Then there were my triplet stepbrothers.

We didn't talk much. They barely called, and most of the time, it felt like we lived in completely different worlds.

Hans, the eldest, or at least the one who constantly reminded everyone he was the eldest, worked as a firefighter. Mitch, the middle triplet, was a hockey captain. And Devon, the youngest, was an MMA fighter, which I thought was pretty cool.

The last time I'd seen them was after Mom and Anthony got married, right after I graduated high school. Back then, things had been easy. We'd joke around, hang out, and actually talk.

But once I left for college, something changed.

The calls became less frequent. The texts stopped. And before I knew it, years had slipped by with barely any contact between us.

And now that I was back, I couldn't wait to see them.

Mom met me at the door before I could even knock.

The smell of cinnamon and baked cookies drifted out from the house, wrapping around me along with the warmth spilling from inside.

"Christ, Yas." Her eyes widened the second she saw me. "What the hell did you do to your hair?"

"Hello, Mom." I leaned forward and kissed her cheek.

I knew she'd hate the red hair. Honestly, that was half the reason I'd dyed it in the first place. Sometimes I liked pushing her buttons. It was the only way to remind her I wasn't sixteen anymore.

"Yasmin..." Her brows pulled together.

Knowing exactly where this conversation was headed, I cut her off before she could start.

"Merry Christmas." I placed both hands on her shoulders and flashed my brightest smile.

Her lips parted, ready to continue the lecture anyway, but Anthony's voice interrupted from inside the house.

"Yasmin."

I almost sighed in relief.

Yeah. I really needed that interruption.

"Good to see you too, Dad."

I'd always called him that. Even if I had no idea who my biological father was, Anthony had never made me feel like I was missing one.

He crossed the room and pulled me into a hug. The familiar scent of his cologne instantly brought back childhood memories.

When he finally stepped back, his eyes drifted to my hair.

"Your hair's beautiful."

I giggled.

Then I turned to look at Mom.

She was still standing by the door, fingers curled tightly around the handle. Her face hadn't softened one bit.

Not even a smile.

"You can't love her hair, Anthony." Mom finally said with a dramatic sigh.

"What's wrong with it?" I asked softly. "I'm not a kid anymore. I'm twenty-four, for Christ's sake. Whatever I do, it's on me."

"And please close the door, honey. It's freezing outside, and we might as well freeze inside if you leave it open," Anthony said, slipping a hand into his coat pocket as a cold draft swept through the hallway.

"That's not what I meant." Mom pushed the door shut and walked toward me, her expression softening. "Your hair is... beautiful."

She said it like the words physically hurt.

Knowing my mother, they probably did.

"I'm just worried people will get the wrong idea about you."

"Then let them talk, Mom." I shrugged. "Who cares?"

Her shoulders dropped in defeat.

"Anyway, welcome home, darling. I'm glad you've finally decided to grace us with your presence."

This time, she pulled me into a real hug.

I laughed and wrapped my arms around her, breathing in the familiar scent of her floral perfume. For a second, it felt like I'd never left.

When we pulled apart, a deep, husky voice drifted through the room.

A voice smooth enough to melt a thousand women's hearts.

"Welcome home, sister."

I turned.

And there he was.

Hans stood at the edge of the staircase, one hand resting on the banister.

For a moment, I just stared.

He looked nothing like the boy I remembered.

Well, not nothing.

The same almond-shaped blue eyes stared back at me, but everything else had changed. His features were sharper now, his shoulders broader. He looked older, more mature.

And annoyingly attractive.

When exactly had my stepbrother become that sexy?

Before I could fully process how different Hans looked, Mitch stepped out of the storage room and my breath caught.

He was wearing gloves and a dark coat, his hair slicked back like some mafia boss straight out of a movie. A smirk tugged at his lips as he leaned against the doorway, looking entirely too pleased with himself. Years of hockey had clearly done him favors. He carried himself with the easy confidence of an athlete.

Then came Devon.

He strolled down the stairs like he owned the place.

He must have just gotten out of the shower because damp strands of dark hair clung to his forehead, and the faint scent of soap drifted through the air. He wasn't wearing a shirt, completely unbothered by the winter weather outside.

Seriously?

This was ridiculous.

It was like they'd coordinated their entrances beforehand.

One after another.

God, what exactly had happened while I'd been away?

I was so busy staring that I didn't even realize someone was calling my name.

"Yas... Yas..."

Mom lightly tapped my shoulder.

I blinked and tore my gaze away.

"Yes?"

"Mitch has been calling your name," she whispered.

"Oh. Right."

I cleared my throat and walked over to them.

"If it isn't my triplet younger brothers."

"Actually, I think we all look bigger than you now, Yas," Devon teased.

"Well, I'm still your older sister, and that's not changing." I pointed at him. "And find something to wear. It's cold outside."

"Merry Christmas, Yassy," Hans said, pulling me into a hug.

I rolled my eyes immediately.

Some things, apparently, never changed.

I was the first to pull away.

"It's actually Yasmin," I corrected, giving his arm a playful nudge. "Not Yassy."

"You know how much I love calling you Yassy."

"Whatever."

That nickname had annoyed me for years.

"Okay," Mom chimed in, linking her arm through mine. "She's just gotten back from a very long journey. She needs to rest."

They all nodded and stepped aside as Mom and I headed toward the stairs.

"Merry Christmas, Yassy!" Hans called after me.

The others burst out laughing.

"It's Yasmin!" I shouted over my shoulder before continuing upstairs, their laughter following me all the way down the hall.

***

Later that day, Mom and Dad went out to visit a friend, leaving me alone with my stepbrothers.

I was sprawled across my bed with my earbuds plugged in, completely absorbed in a Christmas movie. Outside my window, snowflakes drifted down in thick white sheets, tapping softly against the glass. The room felt colder by the minute, and unfortunately, I didn't have a fireplace like the rest of the house.

Still, the movie was good enough to keep my mind off it.

I was so engrossed that I didn't notice my annoying stepbrothers walking into my room.

Not until someone tickled my side.

"Jesus, what the fuck!"

I practically launched off the bed.

Ripping out my earbuds, I spun around to find all three of them standing in front of me.

Towering over me.

Like I was some sort of sacrificial lamb.

"What's going on?" I asked, eyeing each of them suspiciously.

"Let's play a game," Hans said, folding his arms across his chest.

"What kind of game?"

"Hide and seek."

I nearly burst out laughing.

"Hide and seek?" I repeated. "What are you, twelve?"

A chuckle escaped me as I reached for my phone.

"Go away."

The second my fingers touched it, Mitch snatched it from my hand.

"Hey!"

I lunged for it, but he took two steps back, holding it above my reach.

"Give it back."

"Nope," Devon said coolly, slipping a hand into his pocket.

"You have to play with us."

I slapped a hand against my forehead.

Honestly, I'd spent all day thinking they'd matured while I was gone.

Apparently not.

They were still the same idiots I'd grown up with.

We used to spend hours playing hide-and-seek before I left for college. Then somehow, over the years, things changed. The calls stopped. The texts became rare. They grew distant.

And now they were standing in my room trying to force me into a childhood game.

"Give me back my phone," I said through gritted teeth.

"No way." Hans shook his head. "Come on. It's going to be fun."

I looked from Hans to Mitch to Devon.

Three stubborn faces.

Three idiots.

At this point, I didn't think I had much of a choice.

"Fine," I groaned.

"Okay." Hans said with a broad smile. "Now here's how we're going to play the game."

I pushed the duvet off my legs and stood. My blouse clung to my body, and with the cold creeping in from outside, a shiver ran down my spine. I wasn't wearing a bra, and the chill had made that painfully obvious.

The moment I got to my feet, I caught the way their eyes flickered downward.

My frown deepened.

"Hans," I called, folding my arms across my chest. "What are the rules of the game?"

"Oh." He blinked, like he'd just snapped out of a trance. "We'll count to twenty, and you'll find somewhere to hide."

"What?" I arched an eyebrow. "That's not how you play it. Everyone is supposed to hide while you count."

"We choose to play differently today." Mitch chimed in. "It's three against one."

I thought about it for a moment and decided it wasn't a bad idea to change the rules of the game.

"Okay, fine." I replied, raising a hand in mock surrender. "Who's counting?" I asked, looking between them.

"Me." Devon raised his hand slightly.

"Okay. All settled then." Hans exhaled. "Shall we begin?" he asked, a strange smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

I hesitated.

Something about the way they looked at each other made a knot tighten in my stomach. Their smiles seemed a little too eager, their expressions a little too knowing. It felt like there was an unspoken joke hanging in the air that I wasn't part of.

They were up to something.

I could see it written all over their faces.

But I pushed the thought aside. It was just a game. There was no point getting paranoid over a game of hide-and-seek.

"Yes." I replied after clearing my throat.

Without another word, they turned toward the wall. The room fell strangely quiet except for the rustle of clothes and the faint whistle of wind against the windows.

Devon pressed a hand against the wall and began to count.

I slowly tiptoed out of the room as the numbers rose behind me.

"Three... four... five..."

The moment I was out the door, I hurried toward the staircase. By the time I reached it, they were already at ten.

I had less than ten counts before they'd start looking for me.

My feet carried me to the first place that came to mind.

The basement.

The wooden steps groaned softly beneath my weight as I crept down. A chill wrapped around me, raising goosebumps along my bare arms. The air smelled faintly of dust and old wood.

This is stupid, I thought.

But my pulse was already racing.

The single bulb hanging from the ceiling flickered weakly, casting long shadows across the basement floor. Boxes and forgotten furniture sat in the corners like silent figures watching me.

"Eighteen... nineteen..."

Panic nudged at me.

With no better option, I slipped inside an old wardrobe and pulled the door nearly shut behind me. The space was cramped and smelled of mildew. Rough wood pressed against my back.

There wasn't actually a good hiding spot down here.

Then the counting stopped.

My breath caught.

A few seconds later, I heard footsteps moving somewhere above me. I pressed my lips together and forced myself to breathe as quietly as possible.

Muffled laughter drifted through the floorboards.

Then silence.

I waited, my heart hammering so hard it felt loud enough to give me away.

One minute passed.

Then another.

I started to wonder if they had given up looking for me.

Still, I didn't dare step out of the wardrobe.

Then, I heard the basement door click open, spilling a sliver of light down the stairs.

I squeezed my eyes shut and covered my mouth, as though that could somehow quiet my breathing. Why had I even come down here in the first place? I knew this would be their first place to look.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are..." Hans's voice, low and teasing, drifted down like molasses.

I didn't move. The wardrobe was deep in shadow, but the basement was small. They'd find me eventually.

Three sets of footsteps descended the stairs. The light from above stretched their shadows across the floor, huge and menacing, and I swallowed hard.

"Basement's not a great hiding spot, sweetheart," Mitch said this time.

I bit my lower lip, watching them through a narrow gap in the wardrobe door. Hans's shirt hung loosely over one shoulder. Honestly, I didn't know why he had taken it off, but I couldn't help admiring his body. I was already imagining what it would feel like to run my hands over it.

I shook my head slowly, trying to snap out of it.

What the hell? They're your stepbrothers, a tiny voice in my head screamed.

I forced my attention back to the basement and watched as they spread out, fanning across the room.

My stomach tightened.

I took a careful step backward, trying to steady myself inside the cramped wardrobe. The space was suffocating, the stale smell of dust filling my nose. My shoulder brushed against the clothing rail.

The metal groaned.

My eyes widened.

Before I could grab it, the rail came loose and crashed against the wardrobe door with a loud creak that echoed through the basement.

"Shit," I muttered.

Silence.

For one terrible second, nobody moved.

Then footsteps headed straight toward me.

Before I could even pretend I hadn't just given myself away, the wardrobe doors were yanked open.

Devon's face appeared in front of me, hovering in the narrow gap. A grin spread across his face, wide enough to show teeth.

"Found you."

I let out a nervous laugh and flashed him an awkward smile before stepping out of the wardrobe, raising my hands in surrender.

"Okay, fine," I said. "You got me."

"What were you thinking when you came here?" Hans asked in a low voice as he stepped closer to me.

"Nothing," I replied, giving a small shrug and trying as hard as I could not to look at his irritatingly attractive body.

"So I played your game. Can I go back to what I was doing now?" I cleared my throat and tried to walk past him, but he caught me just in time.

"Not so fast, sister," Hans said in a deep voice.

I stopped, and my eyes finally fell to his chest. My heart fluttered. My hands ached to touch him, but I stopped myself.

I looked away instantly.

"You all need to learn how to dress properly, especially since I'm here on holiday." I tried to sound as firm as I could, but my voice was already weak.

"Why?" Mitch asked, folding his arms across his chest. "Because you can't resist having three sexy brothers around?"

"Get over yourselves," I snapped and tried to pull my hand away. But Hans's grip was too tight.

I didn't trust myself around them. Mitch was right. I couldn't really resist having three attractive stepbrothers looking at me like I was their next meal.

"You need to let me go," I said to Hans, staring into his dark, intense eyes.

A small smirk appeared on his lips as his gaze dropped to my chest.

"You say you need to go, but your body says otherwise." He licked his lips, still looking.

I looked down and realized my nipples had already hardened beneath the fabric.

"Say you want us, baby sister, and we'll have you so weak you won't be able to walk again," Devon said, smacking my ass. The sound echoed through the silent basement.

"No. I'm your big sister." I still protested, but my voice was weak. I had never been involved in a threesome, and I had always told myself I never would be. But with them around, I didn't know if I could keep that promise.

"Yes," Mitch said in a rough voice. "Say you want us, sister."

I should have pushed them all away. I should have run back upstairs. But the heat in their eyes, the way their bodies boxed me in, and the thick, syrupy tension in the air melted my resistance.

And I was so aroused. I could already feel myself growing wet.

Hans's hand slid from my arm, over my shoulder, until his fingers tangled in my hair.

He pulled gently, angling my head back, and said, "Say it, Yassy."

"I want you." My chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. "All three of you."

"Good girl." Mitch leaned toward my neck and pressed his lips to the sensitive skin there. His breath was hot against my skin, and my knees suddenly weakened. My lips parted as a soft sound slipped from them.

"I knew you wanted this all along," Devon growled as he pressed the hard bulge in his trousers against my back.

"Didn't you want this too?" I asked, looking down as Hans's free hand trailed over my stomach and stopped at the waistband of my skirt.

"Let's play a second game," Mitch whispered into my ear. "First one to make you scream wins."

I was already too far gone to refuse. I gave a slow, breathless nod, my eyes heavy-lidded as I surrendered to it.

They moved like they'd choreographed it. Devon stepped back toward the old couch in the corner. The couch had been dragged down there by my stepfather after he replaced it with the one currently in the living room.

Hans guided me to kneel on the floor, and Mitch knelt behind me, his palms sliding up my thighs and pushing the hem of my skirt higher. Cold air kissed my skin, and I gasped.

"Shhh," Hans said, crouching in front of me. His hand cupped my chin again, tilting my face up. "Just relax, sister. We'll take care of you."

I nodded as a soft sound slipped from my throat. This wasn't right. Letting my stepbrothers get this close. Letting things cross lines they never should. And yet, I didn't pull away.

I wanted it.

I had wanted them for a long time, ever since high school, burying the feeling somewhere I could pretend it didn't exist. I told myself it was just curiosity, just a passing thought. But it never really left me.

Now it felt impossible to deny the way my body reacted to them, the way my thoughts unraveled the closer they got. It was as if something inside me had been waiting for this exact moment to finally give in.

And I hated how much I didn't want it to stop

Hans undid the button of his trousers slowly. The zipper followed, hissing in the quiet basement. I swallowed, waiting patiently to see the size of the dick I had once wondered about. When he finally freed himself, the sight made my breath catch and my eyes widen.

"You see how hard I am?" he asked, stroking the head.

I nodded, licking my lips without thinking. My pulse was racing so hard it felt like my whole body had tilted into something I couldn't step out of.

He didn't have to guide me. I leaned forward, my lips parting, and took him into my mouth.

He tasted salty and skin as the heat of him flooded my senses.

He let out a deep, drawn-out groan, head tipping back as if he was losing control for a moment.

I closed my eyes, focusing on the weight on my tongue. Then, I began to suck slowly.

Behind me, Mitch was working my skirt up over my hips, bunching it around my waist.

I felt his fingers trace the curve of my ass before he slid two fingers into my soaked pussy.

"Ah, fuck..." I whimpered as Hans's dick slid out of my mouth with a loud pop.

"Suck this dick like a fucking slut," Hans said, his voice rough and commanding as he pushed back in.

I tilted my head up at him, overwhelmed, gagging as he set a hard, unrelenting rhythm.

Mitch groaned appreciatively as his fingers curled inside me, sending a shudder of pleasure through my body like an electric current.

God, it was overwhelming in the best fucking way. My body trembled on the edge of losing control. All I wanted was to give in and let the feeling consume me.

Thank goodness we were alone. No neighbors, no prying ears, no one to witness how completely they were undoing me. In that moment, the rest of the world simply ceased to exist.

"So wet for us," Mitch said, sliding a finger in and out of my cunt, slow and deep. I moaned around Hans's cock, the vibration making him hiss. "And you were playing hard to get."

Hans hips twitched as I sucked on his cock. His fingers stroked through my hair as he murmured soft praise.

"So good," Hans breathed, thrusting into my mouth, I could barely breathe. "Fuck."

He gripped my hair and the more he slid his cock in and out of my mouth, the more the grip tightened enough to hurt.

I winced softly, a quiet moan slipping out before I could stop it. The way Mitch's fingers pumped in and out of my pussy had my thoughts scattering, every sensation building until it was almost too much to hold back. I shifted closer without thinking, wanting more of him, needing him closer.