Thursday, 29 August 2013

STEP FATHER

My name is Terry and I'm thirty-three years old. Not 
exactly in my prime anymore, but I lift weights for at 
least an hour every day so I've got a pretty good body. 
I'm told I look something like Jean-Claude what's-is-
face, the martial arts star, though I'm not quite as 
muscular nor as handsome. Still, I'm in fine shape for 
my age and I feel even better. I have more energy now 
that when I was sixteen.

Three years ago I married a woman who had an 11-year-
old daughter by a previous marriage. One of the big 
draws for the marriage was that the woman also worked 
out in the gym (I love cut women) and that she was as 
horny as I was. I mean, we fucked constantly, in just 
about every place you could think of. 

Despite the fact that we both worked and that she had a 
kid to take care of, we managed to screw each other two 
or three times a day nearly every day of the week. This 
was just about as close to heaven as I could get.

A woman like this is a rarity, and after a year of 
dating (and no slowing down in the sex department) I 
decided to snap her up before someone else did. So 
despite my reservations about marriage, fidelity, and 
sleeping with just one woman for the rest of my life, 
we tied the knot and proceeded to settle down together.

I should make it clear that I didn't get married just 
for the sex, though that was a vital component. And not 
just because my wife was beautiful. I've had beautiful, 
horny women before and while I'd fuck them day and 
night given the chance, I wouldn't dream of throwing 
away my bachelorhood for them. My wife has other 
qualities which I absolutely adore, but I won't bore 
you with romantic drivel.

Unfortunately, one of those qualities isn't a sharp 
wit. My wife isn't stupid, not by any stretch of the 
imagination; she's just average when it comes to 
overall brain power. Having an informed conversation 
with someone who takes what Oprah says as gospel is a 
bit difficult, and can at times be frustrating.

On the brighter side, my stepdaughter is very 
intelligent and has always been quite mature. I quickly 
discovered, even before I married my wife, that the 
girl and I (her name is Rachel) had much in common and 
so we became fast friends. 

We often did things together that my wife wasn't 
interested in, such as seeing the latest schlock horror 
films (the "Nightmare on Elm Street" series was one of 
our favorites) or checking out the new selections at 
the bookstore or messing around with the most recent 
computer games. I wasn't attracted to Rachel at this 
point, as she was only 11 when I married her mother and 
I'm no child molester.

At first, married life was quite good. Even better than 
being a bachelor.  For the first couple of years my 
wife remained as horny and as buff as she'd been when 
we were dating. No problems, no major spats, everything 
was pretty grand.

Then it happened, and I'm beginning to think that this 
is some sort of women's conspiracy, because it's 
happened to all of my friends too. My wife stopped 
going to the gym regularly, and then dropped her 
membership altogether.  Because she didn't work out 
anymore, she quickly lost her finely toned figure and 
even put about twenty extra pounds on her ass. And 
though I loved her, I sure as hell didn't love the 
cottage cheese and the ripples and the flab. But I 
didn't say anything, hoping that she'd take a good look 
in the mirror some day and decide it was time to get 
back on track.

It gets worse, though. Soon after my wife went out and 
bought a new wardrobe to accommodate her expanding 
figure, her interest in sex began to wane. I mean, it 
really waned. We went from two times a day to once or 
twice a week so fast it made my head spin. Then to once 
or twice a month. And this I did say something about, 
only to have her tell me that now that we were 
'comfortable' in our marriage we didn't need to have 
sex so much. And that if I truly loved her I'd respect 
her needs and desires, etc. etc., and stop complaining, 
you aren't a teenager anymore so don't act like one.

So, just because I'm past the age of thirty I'm not 
supposed to want to fuck anymore? What shit is this? 
When I told a couple of buddies about this, they just 
laughed and said 'welcome to the married life, pal. 
Time to start screwing your secretary.' They thought 
this especially funny, as my secretary is a man, not a 
woman.

Months passed and the situation didn't get any better. 
My wife stabilized at about 25 pounds overweight (no 
tone at all) and sex once a month. I was dying the 
entire time, horny as hell and wanting to fuck just 
about everything that moved. I tried a number of what I 
thought were subtle, romantic ways to rekindle the old 
passion, to no avail. Again and again I was told to 
'live with it'.

My wife began to fill her spare time after work with 
mind-numbing sitcoms like 'Cheers' and 'Roseanne', as 
well as the dutifully recorded Oprah and Jenny Jones 
and whoever the hell else was on, which left me not 
only horny but also more and more in the company of my 
stepdaughter Rachel. Stepdaughter by marriage only; you 
can't really be a father to a child when you miss the 
first eleven years of her life.

Neither of us could stand to watch what passed for 
entertainment on TV, so we went to movies or down to 
the gym (Rachel had started working out with me by this 
time) or loaded up a game on the computer to play. 
Often we just sat around and talked. It was at this 
point, when Rachel was thirteen and fast approaching 
fourteen, that I realized that she was no longer a 
child but one hell of a woman.

Funny that I didn't see it before, perhaps because she 
changed so much in the course of a couple of years and 
I was pretty satisfied with my marriage for most of 
that time. Rachel had had gone from a skinny little 
tomboy to a full-chested, slim-hipped, long-legged 
beauty, both muscular and soft in a way that only the 
young can really be. And her face, brown eyes and 
shoulder-length brown hair (my favorite), was just as 
fine as her figure.

This revelation first dawned on me one night when both 
of us were in the hot tub talking. Sounds erotic, I 
know, but it wasn't; we all used the hot tub on a 
regular basis, and my wife and I hadn't fucked in it 
for months so I didn't associate it with sex.

It was night and there were no lights out on the back 
deck, but the glow from a couple of windows made it 
possible to see somewhat. Rachel and I had been talking 
about the boys at her junior high, and I started to 
tease her about it. Things soon degenerated into a 
splashing fight and during the scuffle she wrapped her 
legs around my waist and tried to dunk me under the 
water. She'd tried this before on occasion, and now as 
then it didn't work. I outweighed her by about two to 
one.

So now this incredibly sexy and remarkably developed 
thirteen-year-old has her legs wrapped around my waist, 
pressing her thighs and crotch and absolutely flat 
stomach right into my body. And failing to dunk me she 
tries to tickle me instead, so I catch her hands and 
pull them above my head, which pushes her taught young 
breasts right up against my chest. And our faces are 
about six inches apart, we're both hot and wet and 
breathing hard, and I discover that this is no child 
pressed up against me but a woman, I woman that I find 
extremely attractive.

No, let's be blunt. In that instant I knew I wanted to 
fuck her. I wanted to rip that tiny two-piece thing off 
her body and screw the foreplay, just ram it home then 
and there. Fuck her like a wild dog in heat, nothing 
but hot passion and lust. I wanted to hear her high-
pitched voice shriek in my ear when she came.

This all passed through my mind in the few seconds that 
we were in this position, staring at each other, and 
then I felt my cock starting to rise and my senses came 
back to me. Before Rachel could feel the effect she was 
having on me (my cock being right below her crotch) I 
pushed her away and started the splash fight again to 
cover up the awkward moment.

And my mind was racing. Jesus, what kind of pervert are 
you? You want to fuck your stepdaughter, your vastly 
under-aged stepdaughter? What the hell would she think 
of you if she found out? Christ, are you some kind of 
monster? A rapist or child molester?

This barrage went on all night, freshly stimulated each 
time I thought about that moment that her body was 
pressed up against me and the lust that boiled up so 
fast and furious it was primal. This despite the fact 
that I'm a psychologist and I know the most deeply-kept 
family secret: that fathers and daughters quite often 
want to screw each other stupid, and that they do it 
much more often than anyone suspects. Hell, American 
society would collapse if it ever became public 
knowledge just how many daughters and fathers, or 
brothers and sisters, are humping each other and loving 
every minute of it.

It would sure as hell put an end to shows like Oprah 
and Jenny Jones.

Days passed and it appeared that Rachel hadn't marked 
the hot tub incident as anything special, for which I 
was both relieved and disappointed. I resolved to try 
to keep my hormones in check, though that was extremely 
difficult given that she, like most teen girls, loved 
to dress in tight-fighting clothing.  Clothing which to 
me was like a neon sign saying 'fuck me! fuck me! I'm 
so young and hot I'll make your head explode!'.

Several weeks later I was still struggling with my 
cock, which gallantly tried to stiffen up every time I 
saw Rachel. One night when she was out on a date, and 
my wife was glued to the tube (as usual), I went into 
my den and booted up the computer to add something to 
the secret journal I'd been keeping. I was so confused 
by lust that I couldn't remember where the hell I'd 
hidden the thing last (I especially didn't want Rachel 
to find it), so I pulled up the file manager and chose 
the 'view hidden files' option to see if it'd pop up.

My hidden directory was indeed revealed, but so was 
something else which I hadn't seen before, another 
directory named 'rdi'. I jumped into the directory and 
found a number of dated files with similar mystifying 
names, and out of curiosity I opened the one with the 
earliest date.

A few minutes of reading the text that scrolled out on 
the screen shocked me with the discovery that I'd 
found, entirely by accident, Rachel's diary.  
Apparently she didn't trust to keep a normal paper 
diary for fear that her mother might find it, and so 
knowing that mom never used the computer she put it 
here. She also thought it well enough hidden to elude 
me, since the directory wouldn't show up unless I 
accidentally unhid the thing, and then I had to notice 
it was there and that it wasn't one of the many games 
we had loaded up. Seems that fate conspired against her 
on this one.

I pondered the issues of trust and privacy for all of, 
oh, about five seconds, and then eagerly started to 
read the diary.

That first night, and on many nights thereafter (it was 
truly a long piece of work, and Rachel added to it two 
or three times a week), I found out some stuff that 
probably would've given her mother a heart attack. For 
example, Rachel had started the journal just after her 
twelfth birthday, and she immediately spent many pages 
discussing in detail her fantasies, lusts, and desires. 
She also described - vividly, I might add - how often 
she masturbated, and to what, and her fondness for the 
massage shower head.

I thought Rachel a virgin, as did her mother, so I was 
stunned to learn that she first got fucked just before 
her thirteenth birthday by a 17-year-old boy that 
attended one of the local high schools. Though she 
thought the whole thing rather unsatisfying in 
comparison to the massage shower head, she resolved to 
experiment regularly thereafter. And she did, with more 
boys than I would've thought possible. She went into 
excruciating detail on these experiences and I lapped 
it all up eagerly, vicariously enjoying her sex life in 
lieu of screwing her myself.

This isn't to say that Rachel spent the entire journal 
talking about sex. In fact, most of it had nothing to 
do with sex. But for me those were the most interesting 
parts.

About two weeks later I was getting to the point where 
I was about a month behind the hot tub incident when I 
stumbled upon the most interesting fantasy yet. 
Interesting, because it involved me. Rachel went on 
about how she'd been lusting after me for awhile but 
had been ignoring it, and about how powerful her orgasm 
had been when she masturbated while thinking about 
fucking me. 

This new fantasy quickly became her favorite, 
guaranteed to get her off in a big way. She was quite 
open in her journal about the fact that the incest 
element was an especially big turn-on for her, 
something that made her hotter than anything else she'd 
thought up. And she wasn't remorseful or guilty in the 
slightest, which for some reason made my dick so hard I 
thought I'd burst then and there.

Excited beyond reason I kept reading late into the 
night until I came to the hot tub incident, the one I 
thought Rachel hadn't even noticed. But she had, at 
least on her end. She told of how horny it'd made her 
to wrap her legs around me, thinking that my cock was 
only inches from her pussy, to feel the muscles in my 
chest and arms, the thrill when I caught her hands and 
pulled her up against me. 

She said that at that moment all she wanted to do was 
to fuck me, that the desire was so strong she almost 
begged me to screw her right there in the hot tub. But 
she had stopped herself, not knowing what I'd do or 
think.

Several entries later I learned that she had since then 
been trying to attract my interest in subtle ways, 
brushing up against me or wearing tight clothes.  Just 
enough to catch my attention without being brazen. And 
I hadn't noticed.

But I had. I'd noticed and thought the whole thing was 
my fevered imagination, wish-fulfillment of the worst 
sort.

I couldn't believe it. For several months I'd been 
going through the torture of frustration over my 
stepdaughter, not knowing that she was doing the exact 
same thing over me. Some psychologist I was. I couldn't 
even tell when a teenager wanted to ride my pony.

Still, this didn't give me the courage to try anything. 
What if we fucked and she thought it was a mistake? 
What if my wife found out? What if she told a friend 
and it somehow made its way to the cops? God knows, I 
wanted to fuck her like there was no tomorrow, but the 
fears and doubts managed to keep my dick in check. At 
least, they did until that next Saturday.

On weekends we generally sleep in to different times. 
Rachel almost always gets up around 8:00, while I 
generally haul myself out of bed about a half hour 
after her. My wife used to do the same, but she now 
doesn't wake up until at least 9:30 or 10:00. So this 
Saturday, my wife was still in bed asleep when I got 
up, put on some sweat shorts (I intended to work off 
some sexual frustration in my home gym) and went to the 
kitchen to brew up some coffee.

Rachel was already there, as she usually was on 
Saturday mornings. An empty cereal bowl gave testimony 
that she'd already eaten, and now she was reading the 
newspaper which was spread out across one counter. As 
was also usual before she took a shower, she was only 
wearing one of those 'night t-shirt' things that 
younger women like, the long shirts that barely cover 
their ass, and of course panties. Not little-girl 
panties, but those French-cut things which reveal far 
more than they hide. Must've given the neighbors a 
thrill when she went out on the walk to get the paper.

She was bent over the counter, elbows resting on the 
paper, which hiked her shirt up over ass and onto her 
back. Her legs were slightly spread, stretching the 
panties toughly over her ass and outlining her young, 
incredibly tight pussy. When I walked into the kitchen 
I stopped for a moment, for the sight was truly 
incredible, almost posed, a 'take me now' stance that 
got my blood pumping. I thought about how many boys had 
enjoyed that pussy and how very, very much I wanted to 
join their ranks.

Rachel heard me and glanced over her shoulder to smile 
and say good morning, then went back to reading the 
paper. Not changing her stance at all, completely 
unaware of the effect it was having on me. Hormones 
clouded my brain, driving out the objections I'd been 
wrestling with for months.

During that moment I thought it better to fuck her and 
have it turn out to be a mistake than to get old and 
grey and wonder for the rest of my life what it might 
have been like. So instead of heading over to the 
coffee machine to make a pot, I walked over to where 
she was, intent on taking her if it was at all 
possible.

Still, I wasn't crude about it. I didn't rip off her 
panties and slam the meat between her legs. Instead, I 
started to give her a back rub. Not exactly subtle, but 
not so blatant that it couldn't be thought of as 
innocent in intent if things didn't go well. I still 
didn't know how far she was willing to go in reality, 
despite my forbidden journeys into her diary.

"Mmmm, that feels good," she said, bending farther over 
the counter. This of course forced her ass up even 
higher, while at the same time requiring that I move in 
so I could stretch to reach her shoulders. I was so 
close that my groin was ever so barely touching her 
ass, and it electrified me. My cock immediately 
swelled, fast on its way to its full eight inches or 
so.

Because I was massaging her back with some force, her 
body was rocking back and forth slightly, which 
resulting in her ass just slightly rubbing up against 
my stiffening dick. This was enough to make it come to 
full attention, and of course the head popped out of 
the top of my sweat shorts.  Eight stiff inches just 
won't fit into a pair of shorts, even if they have 
elastic in the waist.

So there I was, nearly draped over her while massaging 
her shoulders, the head of my cock responding 
vigorously to the feather friction of her silk panties 
as they periodically came into contact with it. 

I was so fucking horny I thought that if this kept up I 
was going to come just like that, shooting sperm all 
over her the back of her oversized t-shirt. And I was 
thinking "shit, man, I'm almost inside of her, just 
pull back her panties and slide it in, please, please, 
please! You'll be fucking her before she (you) can 
think twice about it!"

I almost did it. The temptation was enormous. But I 
couldn't, even though her diary convinced me that she'd 
welcome it. There was still some niggling doubt in my 
mind someplace.

Instead, I started moving down her back, massaging 
lower and lower, praying that she wouldn't turn around 
and see the head of my dick staring back at her.  When 
I got to her lower back she arched up a bit, spreading 
her legs even more and presenting her pussy in full 
view. I drunk it in like a man dying of thirst, and 
then I noticed that her panties looked like they were 
damp. A sign from the gods if there ever was one.

"To hell with it," I thought. "It's now or never."

All of my inhibitions disappeared as my one hand went 
to massage a silky thigh while the other crept around 
to caress her incredible, hard abdomen. I heard her 
breath catch in her throat, but she didn't open her 
eyes or object or even look back at me. I watched the 
blood rush to her face, felt her skin warm beneath my 
hands.

As I slowly moved simultaneously for crotch and 
breasts, I pressed my groin slightly against her ass 
and was rewarded when she pressed back even harder.  My 
right hand found a breast and began to fondle with 
unmitigated glee, while the left switched to the other 
thigh, teasing her. She responded by starting to rub 
her ass against my cock, up and down. I could hear her 
breath getting sharper and faster and I was thinking 
that there is nothing, absolutely nothing more glorious 
than a horny teenage girl.

More than a little overeager, I abandoned the thigh and 
moved straight in for the honey, slipping my fingers 
past her panties and into her moist cunt lips.  This 
time she did gasp, a high-pitched moan quickly cut off, 
and I started rubbing the lips of her pussy and her 
clit. Her breathing became so loud it was almost a 
moan, and I nearly groaned in response.

I was having a bit of trouble trying to fondle the 
other breast in this position, so Rachel came up off 
the counter and pressed herself into me standing up. 
Her arms reached behind her and grabbed my neck, 
pulling my head down to her lips and we kissed, hot and 
passionate, her young tongue deep in my mouth, while 
her ass started to pump even harder against my cock. I 
slowly inserted a finger into her hole, making her moan 
again, and I was thinking god she's so tight, how am I 
going to get my cock into that fucking tightness?

The finger-fucking I was giving her was making her 
shudder with pleasure, and since she was pressed up 
against me I could feel every violent movement, every 
intake of breath, every half-cut-off moan that escaped 
her lips between kisses. Briefly removing my hand from 
her breasts, so full and firm.

I deftly slipped out of my sweat shorts, kicking them 
away when they hit the floor.  This finally freed my 
aching cock, and it sprung up and under her spread 
legs, pressed hard against her cunt through her 
panties. Rachel breathed "yes, yes", rubbing her 
sopping pussy back and forth across the head and shaft 
and making me moan in time with her.

The action was too much for me. Being so close to 
fucking this 14- year-old beauty I'd been fantasizing 
about for months, my own stepdaughter, having her 
pressed up against me and knowing that she wanted to 
screw me just as bad as I wanted her, blew away any 
thought of further foreplay or gentleness. I was 
consumed by a lust of such power I'd never felt before, 
and I wanted to screw her long and hard, I wanted to 
come inside of her and make her come whether she wanted 
to or not. I wanted to take her and drive her wild, 
exhaust her with pure animal fucking.

But I couldn't do it standing up. No matter how it 
looks in the movies, I knew I couldn't keep my knees 
locked when the moment of truth came. I'd fall on my 
ass once I shot my load.

So I turned Rachel around, kissing her while I pulled 
her legs up and around the small of my back. She was so 
light, and she knew right away what I wanted and jumped 
up so I could grab her ass. Almost ripping each others 
faces off with our lips and tongues.

I carried her out of the kitchen and through the dining 
room into the living room, the closest place that had a 
carpet. I knelt down, almost falling, and put her on 
the floor. She unlocked her legs from my back and I 
pulled her panties off, roughly, tossing them aside as 
I had my own shorts. She quickly followed by pulling 
off her shirt.

Seeing her muff exposed, I paused for a moment to 
stare. She spread her legs back and grabbed my arms, 
which I was using to balance myself against the floor 
with, trying to get me on top of her. She almost whined 
when I didn't move.

She was tight. So fucking tight. You can tell how tight 
a woman is by looking at the shape of her hips and 
crotch, and that determines at least half of how good 
she is in bed. 

Even with Rachel's legs spread to either side of her 
there was barely any room at all between her thighs, 
and again I thought, how the hell am I going to get 
myself inside of her? It wasn't the eight inches that 
was the problem, that's not so much longer than the 
average guy.  But I was quite a bit thicker than most 
men, and the woman in front of me was tighter than any 
girl I'd ever been with. It looked like my cock was 
much thicker than her pussy was wide.

Now you're probably thinking so what? Do her anyway! 
But that's not how I'm built. The idea of forcing 
myself into her, ripping her up with every stroke, was 
not one I especially enjoyed. Hurting her was not in 
the game plan.

I was on the verge of abandoning the whole thing, 
despite the overpowering lust and Rachel's obvious 
desire, when she wrapped her legs around my back and 
pulled down - hard. I wasn't ready for it and I 
collapsed on top of her.  Before I could move she 
shifted her hips and moved herself under me, putting 
the head of my cock right between her cunt lips, 
butting up against her hole.  I could feel her lips 
stretching around the top of my cock, she was so very 
tight.

The shock of actually having my dick so close to being 
inside of her made me freeze for an instant, all 
thought driven out of my mind. Even this small contact 
was amazingly exciting and I couldn't think, didn't 
want to think, of not going ahead with it.

"Do it, please, I want you. I want you inside of me," 
Rachel breathed, pulling down my head to kiss me. Still 
I didn't move, torn between not wanting to hurt her and 
not caring, so again she took matters into her own 
hands. With her legs around my back, holding me in 
place, she pushed herself onto my cock, forcefully, and 
the head slipped in to her hole. She groaned loudly, 
and so did I.

It was too late to stop. No chance now. She pushed 
against me again, and this time I responded, feeling 
another inch slip into her, and we were both panting 
and moaning and holding onto each other so tightly that 
nearly every square inch of our bodies were pressed 
hard into each other.

The pleasure was incredible, indescribable. Never have 
I felt anything so good in my entire life. No fuck has 
ever come close to this one. With each thrust another 
inch went in, and because she was so tight my cock was 
completely enveloped by her hot, silky cunt. 

She was grunting with each stroke, panting 'yes, yes' 
between the animal noises of pleasure being ripped from 
her throat. Her soft, passionate cries, the high voice 
of a girl not yet entirely deepened to that of a woman, 
only made me crazier, and I thrust again and again 
until I was at last all the way inside of her.

With no thought anymore of holding back, I started to 
fuck her slowly, pulling out about half way before 
thrusting myself all the way back in. Rachel's entire 
body was rigid, glued to my own, and she was fucking me 
back, pumping her hips in time with me. Her face was 
red with lust, her eyes squeezed shut, her mouth held 
open by the need to cry out her passion. 

I could feel her taught thighs clenched tightly against 
my hips, her ankles crossing at the small of my back, 
her fingers digging hard into my shoulders, the 
shudders of pleasure rippling through the tense muscles 
of her abdomen. My dick was crying out with the need to 
come, but I held back, wanting this moment to go on and 
on and on, wanting to fuck her sweet young body 
forever.

And so I fucked her and I fucked her, and soon we were 
moving faster, and oh god the muscles of her cunt were 
getting even tighter, and I could feel her pussy lips 
stretching every time I pulled out partway. Her cries 
were getting louder now, and I dimly realized that mine 
were as well, and some vague portion of my brain was 
trying to tell me that if we got any louder than that 
my wife would hear it even halfway across the house in 
a bedroom with a closed door. And I didn't give a shit.

I was fucking my 14-year-old stepdaughter and I was 
loving it more than anything else I'd ever done. 
Nothing in the world could be better than this.

We were grunting and groaning and slamming against each 
other pretty hard and I knew that soon I'd come whether 
I wanted to or not, and soon she would as well, when 
the living room window shuddered. We both 
simultaneously came to a halt, our eyes shooting to the 
window and then to each other.

For some odd reason, when the door to the master 
bedroom is opened it makes the living room window 
shudder. Even though it's several rooms away and none 
of the closer windows are affected. So when the window 
rattled we both knew that the door to the master 
bedroom, where my wife was sleeping, had been opened. 
That meant that my wife was up and had left the bedroom 
and was even now walking down the first hall to the 
junction of the second.

It was already too late to move. Even if we both got 
untangled as fast as we could, Rachel wouldn't have 
enough time to get her panties back on before her 
mother came walking down the second hallway and into 
the dining room, which was next to the living room and 
had a full view of it.

There wasn't any chance in hell that I could get into 
the kitchen and pull my shorts back on, much less get 
rid of the most rigid hard-on I'd ever had in my life. 
I'd have to cross through the dining room, putting me 
and my swinging dick in full view of anyone walking 
down the second hall.

Rachel and I both knew this, and we both knew that we 
were in deep shit. So we froze right there on the 
living room floor, my dick buried to the hilt in her, 
not knowing what to do. Any moment my wife would walk 
in and see her husband caught in the act of screwing 
her underage daughter which, seeing as how her daughter 
was wrapped around her husband as closely as she could 
get, was something the daughter was obviously enjoying 
quite a bit.

We both stared at each other, holding our breath, not 
moving as my wife's footsteps came down the hall. Since 
we were laying on the floor one of the couches blocked 
my wife from seeing us until she left the hall and 
stepped into the dining room. So we had several seconds 
of heart-stopping fear to experience before the gods 
smiled upon us.

Instead of walking into the dining room and ending our 
lives, my wife turned from the hallway into the 
bathroom and closed the door. Which I should have 
realized she'd do, since she had, more and more, become 
a creature of habit.  And with a sigh of relief I knew 
what would come next. We weren't going to get caught.

Rachel immediately tried to move, a difficult thing 
since I was effectively pinning her to the floor.

"Hurry, before she sees us!" she said, unlocking her 
legs and pushing against my chest. I held on to her 
firmly, pulled my cock halfway out, and thrust slowly 
back into her.

"Oh god!" she moaned softly, trying to keep quiet. My 
wife started peeing in the background. 'What are you 
doing? Get off before she comes out!'

"Shhhh," I whispered, thrusting into her again. 
Convulsively she groaned and her legs came back up 
around my back. 'She'll take a shower after she's done.  
Don't worry.'

"Terry, stop! - uhh!" she said, again trying to push me 
off. Her body must've been giving her mixed signals, 
because her legs were still around me and her hips 
thrust down against my cock. 'Please - oh christ! - 
stop!'

"Not a chance," I whispered, grunting myself as I sank 
my cock all the way in again. 'You don't want me to.' I 
thrust again and she arched against me.  'Don't worry."

Despite the fact that she was fucking me back as hard 
as I was fucking her, she was still trying to push me 
away. So I took her hands and forced them down to the 
floor over head and held them there. And I started to 
fuck her faster, listening with rapture as her breath 
speeded up again, tearing from her throat in half-cries 
as she desperately tried to keep quiet.

My wife stopped peeing. The toilet flushed. We stopped 
fucking again and I said 'listen.'

There was a moment when we couldn't hear anything over 
the flushing toilet, then the noise of the shower being 
turned on, water splashing noisily around the bathtub. 
We heard the shower door opening, a pause, then it 
closed again.

I looked into Rachel's eyes, letting her hands go. 
'What did I tell you?'

She didn't say anything for a moment, just looked at me 
breathing hard, then she smiled and replied, "You're a 
lunatic, did you know that? We could've been caught."

"Yeah, and that makes it all the more exciting," I 
said. "Still want to stop?"

She grabbed my shoulders, pulling me down and kissing 
me. "Fuck me."

So I did. Oh, god, I fucked her. With my wife in the 
shower, knowing that she couldn't hear squat past the 
water, Rachel became louder, her voice even higher 
pitched than it was before. 

She thrust against me hard, so hard it was almost 
painful, and I drove myself into her with enough force 
to rock her hips back even though I was pinning her to 
the floor. We moved faster and faster, groping and 
moaning and pulling at each other, Rachel so tight 
around my cock, so hot and wet that I thought I'd die 
inside her young pussy. 

I could feel the tension mount in my balls as her cunt 
started to contract, and she arched up, pushing me off 
the floor, crying out as she came, crying out again and 
again, her pussy spasming against me, and it was too 
much, god too much, and I came with her, shooting my 
cum deep inside of her. 

Each time I thrust, her little girl cries echoed in my 
ears, and I shot load after load into that wonderful 
pussy, felt the violent shudders of her orgasm tear 
through her body, her hips bucking against mine, her 
hands tearing into my flesh.

I've never cum so hard in my life, never so hard as I 
did into my 14-year-old stepdaughter. And never have I 
loved it so much, in part because she was 14 and my 
stepdaughter. The incest, the forbidden fuck, made it 
all the more explosive, all the more mind-blowing. The 
incest and the fact that she way underage, and I was an 
old man compared to her, and I had made her come good 
and hard and she had wanted me to make her come. That 
she loved the idea of her stepfather shooting off in 
her, that she wanted to fuck her stepfather like a 
bitch in heat and that she had, with her mother only 
thirty feet away in the shower. God, I can't tell you 
how exciting that was. There's absolutely nothing like 
it in the world.

The orgasm seemed to go on forever and for a long 
moment I think I half lost consciousness, my brain 
unable to take such pleasure without shorting out.  
When my vision returned I saw that Rachel was still 
coming, still gasping as the orgasm rolled through her, 
so I kept pumping her hard until she was done.  She 
came for a long time, much longer than I've seen any 
woman do it before.

Finally, both of us breathing hard and still holding 
onto each other for dear life, covered in sweat, we 
stopped and looked at each other. The sight of her 
flushed, sweaty face, the heat of her body, was almost 
enough to get me started again, and I dimly realized 
with some surprise that my dick, still all the way 
inside of her, wasn't getting limp at all. Could I keep 
fucking her without waiting to recover? It was an 
exciting thought.

Rachel giggled and kissed me, long and slow, then said, 
"That was so good. God, it was so good. It's never been 
like that before."

I smiled at her and kissed her back. We spent a few 
minutes lashing tongues, laying there on the floor, my 
cock still rigid inside her pussy, and I was starting 
to really believe that we could just keep on going. 
Rachel's breathing was getting faster again, which of 
course got my own heart rate up, but before I could 
think about starting to fuck her the shower went off. 
And this time we did jump up and put on our clothes as 
fast as we could, but not before I grabbed Rachel, 
frenching her hard and saying, "I can't wait to do that 
again. You were incredible."

She grinned before she ran off to her room to change 
her clothes, and I trotted for the gym, a plausible 
excuse for looking so sweaty and heated should my wife 
come looking for me after she dried off. Which she did.

And all the time I was talking to my wife while she 
toweled off her hair and I was doing bicep curls, I was 
thinking about the best sex I'd ever experienced in my 
life.

God, I really can't wait to fuck Rachel again.

No comments:

Post a Comment