Fuck!

Your boner shrivels to a flaccid nub in an instant.

Fuckfuckfuckfuck!

In a panic, you scan the room. Gotta hide! Underneath the bed? No, there's 2 large drawers there. Underneath the table? Wide open to 3 sides, useless! Think, dude, think! There, behind you! The closet!

...Too late. The door handle creaks, and you barely have time to turn around and watch with wide-eyed horror as the door inches open in slow motion.

Your sister's boyfriend Derek steps into the room, still wearing his college football team's uniform. You brace yourself. Here it comes, the inevitable outcry of disgust, or ridicule, or screaming laughter. Most likely all of the above. Derek's eyes narrow for the briefest of moments, then his expression brightens. The next moment he walks up you, sweeps you up into his arms and gives you a big kiss.

You freeze, too stunned to resist even as his tongue worms his way into your mouth. Not that it would've helped. Derek is huge, almost a foot taller than you, and probably twice your weight. He could twirl you around his little finger without breaking a sweat.

Before you have a chance to even try to push him back, though, he draws back himself, sporting that wide, cocky grin you've always hated. Fucking dumb jock.

"Guess what, baby, we won again!" He exclaims. "That makes five in a row. Told you I could do it!"

You blink, understanding dawning slowly. He thinks I'm Sabrina? But I look nothing like her! ...Right? "Um, nice job?" You try, raising your voice in what you hope is a good imitation of her voice. Fuck, I have to play along. It's my only chance!

"Remember your promise?"

"Um, promise?" You stammer, still furiously playing catch-up.

"Come on, babe," he rumbles, his brow furrowing. "Don't toy with me like that."

He takes your hand, and though you try to snatch it back, he effortlessly places it flat against his crotch.

You flush. You can feel his bulge. It's still squishy, clearly only half hard, but already it's undeniable that it's bigger than yours has ever been. An unwelcome shiver goes down your back.

"You feel that? That's how much I need you, babe," he growls into your ear. "I need your mouth, Sab. Come on, it's been weeks..."

"I... Um... But..." You sputter impotently. You desperately grasp for some excuse to not have to do what you dread he wants you to do.

He takes no notice of your feeble attempts at voicing an objection and places his hands on your shoulders. Then, with gentle downwards pressure, he urges you to your knees. He doesn't **** you—though he could, a seductive voice in the back of your mind lisps—but you can't summon the strength to resist him. Not the physical strength, but more importantly not the mental strength. What choice do I have? As long as he keeps thinking you're Sabrina, your dirty little cross-dressing secret will remain safe. And that means acting like Sabrina would. And that means... Fuck.

You look up at Derek. He towers over you like a giant, practically as broad in the shoulders as he is tall. You try not to think about what you look like down on your knees in front of him. Small, slender, weak, defenseless...

He unties the laces comprising his fly and shoves his pants halfway down his thighs. Your eyes widen in shock when it finally becomes undeniable what he wants from 'Sabrina'. For his part, Derek still doesn't recognize your dismay. He's too busy extricating his cock from his boxers.

Your jaw drops. He's huge. He's still not fully erect but already it's 7 or 8 inches long, and almost 2 inches thick. You gasp and the musky, masculine, salty smell of fresh sweat assaults your nose. Your stomach turns. He must've come here right after his game, not even bothering to shower first. You have no idea why Sabrina puts up with this pig.

"Come on, babe," he murmurs encouragingly. "Give it a kiss..."