4 comments/ 100760 views/ 85 favorites A Reluctant Stepfather Ch. 01 By: MJRoberts ALL CHARACTERS IN SEXUAL/SENSUAL SITUATIONS ARE OVER 18. Dear readers, I worked hard to make this slightly taboo story about finding a deep connection through self-awareness, lust, sensuality, and ultimately, love. It's my one and only foray into this category. Hope you enjoy. MJ A Reluctant Step-father - Chapter 1 "Okay, Midnight," I said to my overgrown, currently slobbering black lab sitting in the passenger seat next to me. "It will be fine." Midnight snorted like she seriously doubted that. The traffic slowed to a crawl, as the snowfall resumed. It wasn't fluffy snowflakes; more like light gray BB pellets raining down from some angry adolescent God. Then it got colder. Much colder. Luckily we got to the Detroit airport parking lot without witnessing any accidents. Sometimes when the weather gets really bad people in Detroit drove like they'd never seen a car, which was ironic. I got Midnight's therapy dog paperwork and 'working therapy dog' sign that she wore out of the glove compartment. I didn't want to make her walk in this weather, but I didn't want to leave her in the car in this weather either. Truth be told, I wanted her in the airport with me. She'd make a good buffer. "All right, girl. Show time." I carried her across the parking lot. Even though Midnight weighed almost 70 pounds, I was big enough that I could carry her; I didn't mind after all, I was wearing boots and she wasn't. The brutal, whipping wind, with its harsh swirls of grainy snow, was pushing us away from the airport and back toward the parking lot. Which was fine with me. I'd rather be back in my car than heading into DTW International to pick up my charge. I ducked my head low, hunkered down, curling further around Midnight and further into my big gray jacket. Between my thick jacket, my black wool hat, and my Detroit Red Wings scarf I had some protection as I hurried, continuing to plow headlong into the wind. It occurred to me that maybe the bleak wintery day might be a sign. It didn't escape me that the wind, pushing me away from the airport might be the universe's great metaphor for my reluctance. Oh Tom, you big fucking wuss. It won't be so bad. Honest. Buck up. It will be fine. I let out a huge sigh of relief when I walked through the big double doors of the airport and out of the weather. I put Midnight down and she seemed happy to be out of my arms and excited about what might happen. After a second of being able to say 'phew' to myself, there was a sharp jolt of apprehension. I remembered my luck. I may not be the smartest guy, or the best looking guy, or the wealthiest guy. But I can tell you one thing, I tend to have great luck. I reminded myself of that. Because, hey, I just might need it. I stood in the airport shifting my weight from one foot to another. I was so grateful when I saw the arrivals were delayed it was pathetic. For a second I actually put my face in my hands, tugged at my freshly shaven cheeks, and shook my head. I couldn't believe it. Standing here, waiting to pick-up my step-daughter. Fuck, my step-daughter. The people were bustling back and forth with their bundled up jackets and scarves and rolling luggage and I was sweating inside my unzipped parka. Really sweating. A lot of people stopped to admire Midnight, which made the time pass more quickly. I was thankful the first delay, because it gave me a minute to compose myself. And I was grateful for the second delay, because, let's face it, I wanted to put this off. When her plane was delayed again, I had time to think. Not good. Now that I was actually standing in the airport, I was worried that I had been foolish to agree to let someone I didn't know live with me. Of course she would cramp my style. Obviously it would affect me. I worked from home. What the hell was I thinking? The last time I saw her Stephanie had been a bratty ten-year-old who insisted on going to live with her dad in Europe. Frankly it had surprised me that Marie let her go. Of course the last time she saw me I was a guy in his mid-twenties who was focused on how crazy I was about her mom. Oh God, I had been so, so crazy about Marie. You wouldn't think anybody could be that in love. But I was. Marie was the sun and the moon and the stars and the galaxy. And for good reason too. When I married Marie her family wasn't exactly all open arms. Everyone thought I was too young for Marie. It shouldn't have been such a big deal, but Marie's family made it into one. Stephanie had been the worst. She hated me, and she just wanted to get away. I tried to remember what Stephanie looked like the last time I saw her. Long, thick blonde hair pulled up in a high ponytail on top of her head. Sparkly stuff all in her hair. Sparkly pink body suit. Snotty expression. Some sort of middle-school cheer competition or something. I was so besotted with Marie then I could barely think of anything else. It might seem selfish, but I didn't remember what Stephanie's childhood face looked like as much as her attitude that anyone dating her mother must be a prick. I met Marie in a bar. Maybe that's cliché. She was with a bunch of college students, so it took a double take to realize she was in her late thirties. But from the first second I saw her I felt a kinship. Yeah, her family gave us a hard time. I was in my twenties and she was in her thirties. Big deal. If she were the guy, and I were the girl, no one would think twice about the age difference. Marrying your best friend is one of the most amazing things in the world. Having her die of breast cancer, a swift knife that cut her down seemingly overnight—one day here the next day gone—is about the worst thing that can happen in the world. I know because it happened to me. And I still miss her, every day. It's like an ache in the middle of my chest that never goes away. God, she was so beautiful with that flowing chestnut brown hair, kind eyes, and great laugh. Thinking about her, the ache in my heart got worse. The update on the arrivals board snapped me out of my reverie. Fuck. Stephanie's flight was here. I hustled to the right area and waited. It was a packed flight. I searched all the girls, looking for a gawky teen with an abundance of thick, waist-length blonde hair. My eyes darted around, catching every glimpse of blonde and yellow. Jeez, would I even recognize her? Nothing. And then suddenly a woman with a black beret, and ink black hair stood right in front of me, and I moved slightly to look around her. "Um, 'allo?" I did a double take. The woman in front of me was gorgeous. She looked like Marie; That was the only reason I put it together. She looked like Marie except...incredible. Holy shit. Fuck. How old was she? My expression must have been comical. I pictured my eyes bulging out of my head, and my arms pin-wheeling backward. "You're supposed to be like, ten," I said. She laughed. "Eleven, twelve, fourteen—at most," I said joking. It's amazing how when you don't see kids, they never age in your mind. "Twenty," she said. She looked older, a LOT older. And she was hot. Like a smack the face, holy shit hot. I stared right in her eyes and very purposely didn't look her up and down. She was twenty??? "It's been ten years?" I asked. Oh my God, fuck, ten years. How did I get to be thirty-seven already? "Yes, it has," she said. She had a tiny bit of an English accent. Midnight was practically jumping up and down with excitement. Stephanie bent down and went to take Midnight's face in her hands, but stopped just short of touching her when she saw the therapy dog sign. "It's alright," I said. "This is Midnight, right?" Stephanie asked. I nodded. Stephanie had named her. I forgot until I saw them together. "I can't believe you're all grown up, girl," Stephanie said to Midnight as she nuzzled her neck. I could say the same for you. I couldn't believe that she looked like a grown woman. That she looked adult, like my wife, hot. Totally not what I had expected. "Your hair," I said, pointing. It was short and it had looked pitch black, but maybe it was just a very dark brown, peeking out the edges of her hat. She took the beret off and shook her hair, revealing one small pink streak. It made me feel better. She had a maturity about her that made her look like... well a woman. The streak brought her back down to her age a bit. She was still crouching down, basically at my feet, and I tried not to let that turn me on. She stood up and stretched, arching her back in a way that...I tried not to look. When she stood up, done with greeting Midnight, I wasn't sure whether to give her a hello hug or not. There was a second of sexual tension, a little buzz that happens when a man and a woman have natural chemistry and that decided me on the hug. NOT. I looked at what she was carrying, a huge black purse and a laptop case. "Let's go to baggage claim, get your stuff." "This is it for now," she said, the English accent making me smile and obliterating the previous thought of the American brat. I'm having all my stuff shipped. A decade of girl stuff is a lot of crap," she said. "Right." Time to take my step-daughter home. The first few minutes in the car were awkward, the kind of silence that bites with the chill like the weather we were driving through. I knew why she was back. We'd been exchanging emails for the past month. She wanted to live where her mother had been, because she'd been having a bit of breakdown in England. Still I wasn't sure that things would be much better for her here. After all, I wasn't exactly the say-the-right-thing kind of guy. But I wanted to help; I wanted to help so much. Anything I could do to help her, I wanted to do. So when she said she wanted to come here, of course I said yes. I mean, God, life had been so cruel, not just to me but to her. This had to be the right thing, right? I wondered. Maybe, maybe not. But it was done now. I tried to fill the conversation void, pointing out landmarks that she may or may not remember and new things: shops, movie theaters, anything, I thought she might like. We got home she grabbed an apple and stretched out on the couch. I practically ran to my room. Coward. The next day was a blizzard, and she spent most of the day talking on the phone with friends from childhood and on Facebook doing God only knows what—and eating all my Ben & Jerry's. She didn't talk much, which was fine with me, and as the day wore on our awkwardness became a pleasant camaraderie. I guess I expected she'd be the same spoiled brat I remembered. Resentful, but passive about it, and a real pain in the ass. The reason I agreed to let her come was out of respect for Marie's memory. I'd dreaded Stephanie coming, but she was a perfect houseguest. It was how much she looked like Marie that was bittersweet. As the week went by I began to think of her more and more as herself, less and less like a shadow of her mom. The first week went well. The second week she went into her bedroom and barely came out. The third week was even worse. Even though it had been a year since Marie's death, it was apparent that it was just now hitting Stephanie hard. She had dark circles under eyes and a hallowed look I didn't like at all. But I left her alone. Everyone grieves in their own way. It was the start of the fourth week that I really began to get worried. She'd been leaving her bedroom door open a little bit and every time I walked by she was in bed, curled up in a ball. Almost 24 hours a day she was in bed. Finally I knocked. "Stephanie?" No answer. I let myself in. When I got a good look at her up close, with her despair wafting off her like a wraith at midnight, I felt even worse. I sat down on the edge of her bed. "Listen, Stephanie, I get it. I do. But life goes on. And believe it or not, you HAVE to get up. You have to just...." words failed me. "The longer you stay in bed, the worse it'll get. You need to get a job. A job where you will see other people, be accountable, challenged, something." She shook her head. I scooted closer to her. She was wearing a big pink T-shirt that came down to her thighs and had a blanket tangled up in her legs. She lifted her head to look at me. "I can't. I just can't find a job right now." "I'll help you." She nodded. She half sat up, still sort of propped on her side and looked at me. "I really need you." I put my hand on her shoulder. "Hey, and I'm here for you." She totally surprised me by launching herself at me in a big hug. I hugged her back. "It'll be okay, really it will." Suddenly she was sobbing. Oh shit. "No, God, Stephanie, don't do that. I'm no good with crying females," I said. She stifled herself, sniffling. "Listen," I said. "I changed my mind, you need to cry. Go ahead." She stopped. "Sorry," she said. "No, hey, it's all right. I said I'd be here for you, and I meant it. We're family." "Right." She nodded against my shoulder. Then she kissed my neck. What? It was just the barest brush, maybe I imagined it. I pulled her away and looked at her. Her eyes were begging. I was in shock. She leaned forward and kissed my mouth. I scrabbled off the bed so fast I fell on my ass. "Jesus Christ, Stephanie, what are you doing?" She followed me down to the floor, half crawling, her feet getting caught up in the blankets for a second. Her movements were cat-like. She kissed my jaw. I was still in shock. Then she rubbed her hands up my sides and kissed me hard. My cock stiffened. I grabbed her arms hard and held her away from me. She strained toward me. "God Steph, don't." "Please...." she said softly. The need in her expression and the soft begging in her voice were almost enough to undo me. I jumped up. "I get it, you're hurting, but this is not what you want, not really." She nodded. It looked like a yes-I-do-want-it nod, not an agreeing-with-me nod. I pointed a finger at her, stern. "You're my step-daughter. Do not do this to me." I walked out and shut the door. Hard. That was...I don't even know what the hell that was. My brain was scrambled. Stephanie was grieving, confused. There was no way I was going to take advantage of a girl who was...whatever she was. In all the scenarios I pictured when I agreed that she could come and stay with me, I never pictured that. I told myself that it was an aberration. She was just trying to use me for a minute to get out of her grief. It didn't mean...fuck, I couldn't think. She was so—stop Tom, just stop. You're better than this. I forced myself to forget about it. I pulled some strings, and got her a job at the local university processing admissions. She really liked it. I wasn't surprised. She was good with people, and the job meant working with a lot of people her own age. As winter turned into spring we grew into an easy routine. I read the paper during breakfast while she rushed around and then out the door in order not to be late. She cooked fabulous dinners that made me think I should exercise more. I renewed my Netflix streaming subscription and every night she chose something I never heard of, thought I would hate, and liked more often than not. Stephanie watched Resident Evil on the last Friday of every month, which I found kind of funny and endearing. When I asked her about it, she said that her freshman year in college she and her roommate had a ritual where they would put it on and make out in order to "practice" and now she just did it as tradition. Well that shut me up. She let her hair grow out and dyed it the same rich medium brown shade that Marie's had been. I didn't say anything about it, but after I got over the weirdness, I liked it. The more we had dinner together every night, week after week, the more I liked her. She cracked me up, she was kind, and she was extremely intelligent. It was kind of nice to have someone around. So I pushed that one day out of my mind. It was an aberration locked away. I didn't think of it again until one day in March when I bumped into her, a full body slam really, when she was coming out of the shower. She was covered armpit to ankles in a huge robe-like towel. She was looking down, using a small towel to dry her hair, and I remembered something I forgot in my office. I'd turned quickly and almost ran her over. I reached out my hands to steady her and touched the wet, bare skin of her upper arms. "My fault, sorry," I said quickly and promptly hustled my way back into my office and shut the door. But the zing of electricity I felt when I touched her brought back to mind, full force, that moment months ago I had locked away. How sexy she'd looked in that pink nightshirt when she'd offered herself to me, how needy. I murmured to myself a lot that night. Stephanie's few weeks of midwinter depression that had worried me so badly had lifted after that night. She'd changed into a healthy, balanced adult who was getting along fine in the world. It made sense that I was so attracted to her. She had a lot of the same traits that made me originally fall in love with Marie: a smart brain, a good soul, a wicked sense of humor, a beautifully female take on everything around her. Having a hot twenty something as a roommate would be hard on any guy. The more she stayed close by, the harder it was going to be for me to resist her. After dinner the next day I asked her if maybe she would be better off finding her own place, getting a roommate her own age. I was expecting some resistance but I wasn't expecting it to be so vehement. "I don't want to go! I like it here. You want me to leave?" "It's not that I want you to—" "Then why?" I could see it dawn on her face. A wicked smile of understanding. "I'm trying to think of what is best for you. Maybe it's the best thing for you to live with people your own age." She shook her head. "Think about it, okay?" "Mmhmm," Stephanie said. But I had been around women long enough to know that 'mmhmm' meant a lot of different things depending on the tone. I pretended that conversation never took place. I was fine until one day on spring break when she came into the kitchen, half asleep, with sleep-mussed hair, wearing just a grey sleep shirt that barely reached the top of her upper thighs. Then she reached up to a high cabinet... The shirt rose up to reveal a glimpse of tight bare bottom cheeks and a strip of pink thong, and she turned around and caught me looking. I quickly turned away and snapped my newspaper up. But I could imagine her smile. I could almost hear her thinking. Game on. The next day she walked by past me toward the pool in a red string bikini. Her nipples were prominent through the fabric. She must have teased them before she got to me because it wasn't cold in the house. I tried not to stare at her backside as she passed, but the jaunty walk was hard to ignore. The following day she stopped at my office door wearing a slightly bigger blue bikini bottom and I pretty sure, no top. She had a white beach towel wrapped around her neck that strategically covered her breasts. "Hey Dad, some girlfriends from school and I are going to have a party in the pool, want to join us?" Yes, no, yes. "No, thank you," I said pointedly. "Whatever," she said. She flounced out with an even jauntier walk. I am not drooling. A little while later I peeked out the back door. Yep. She and her girlfriends. Topless. I am not an animal. I will not succumb to my baser desires. Who are you kidding? I watched them splash and play for a minute and then turned away and went back to work. A Reluctant Stepfather Ch. 01 The onslaught continued. Tighter short nightshirt at breakfast the next morning. White. I heard a singsong voice in my head. I can't see you. And another voice. It's not a big deal. She wants it. We're both adults. It's not like she's blood. It's not exactly.... Shut up. Just shut up. Somewhere in the back of my head, I knew I would break. It was just a question of when. Spring break couldn't end soon enough. I'm a good person. While I wanted to think with my dick, I also had Stephanie to think about. The war within grew, and the tension I felt from holding myself back did not ebb; it only got more voracious. I was like a dog worrying a bone with my inner conversations. Many times a day I told myself letting go of my logic and following my instincts would be okay. I remembered once hearing that every action you do, you should be able to be proud of. If you did something, but did not want it written out in blazing gold letters above your head, you shouldn't do it. I used that thought to cool off. I held on for another month. Strangely enough it was when she stopped trying that she became even sexier. One Thursday, when she was cooking dinner, the tides turned. She was at the stove, her back to me. Stephanie wasn't doing anything special. She was wearing loose-fitting jeans and a University sweatshirt, cooking and humming to herself. I wanted to grab her away from the stove, brace her against a counter and take her from behind. BAM! One moment I was looking at her like an appreciative father figure, and the next moment I was rock hard. I wanted to throw her down and bite her. I hustled out of the kitchen, thankfully without Stephanie noticing the quick change in my pants. I took a very, very cold shower, and told her I had to skip dinner. I was going out with the guys, and I wouldn't be home until late. Phew. That was a close one. But the relentless rationalizations started immediately after that, getting worse and worse. I drank a lot that night, and then sat in my car for a good long while until I was sober. When I got home that night I had trouble going to sleep. I played that kitchen scene over and over in my mind. What would she have done if I had come up behind her, brushed her hair out of the way and gently kissed her neck? What would she have done if I grabbed her and fucked her like I wanted to? She had her own life now, maybe she didn't want me like she did when she was messed up. I let my iron grip that I'd been keeping on myself go a little, and let my mind wander. My hand slid down my chest to my stomach. I saw myself coming up behind her. "Keep cooking," I said in her ear. My hand hovered on my low stomach as I imagined grazing her neck with my teeth. In my mind I could smell the food cooking and her perfume. I let my teeth scratch her harder. My hand glided over my hip. I told myself to stop. This was wrong. I should stop. It's okay. No one would know. "You better stir that," I said, slipping my hands under her sweatshirt, over the lace of her bra, massaging her breasts together. I unsnapped the front hook of her bra and her tits spilled forth into my hands, much bigger, heavier and lusher than I thought. She moaned. "That's it, baby." I palmed my cock. I should stop. Oh fuck. Too late now. I pictured myself opening her jeans. In my dreams she was soaked. Impossibly wet, an ocean. I took her away from the stove and hoisted her up on the counter. Her clothes magically disappeared. I opened her legs wide and then I was drinking from her, cups and cups of liquid. Then the dream changed. She was blowing me, the suction getting tighter and faster and faster. I realized it was my hand but at the same time I saw her sweet mouth bent over my hips and I pushed her all the way against me as I came hard. In the dream she drank it all down. I should have felt ashamed, but I didn't. I fantasized about her the next night, and the next. The dreams got even kinkier each time. Hotter, faster, more electric. I dreamed she was watching me palm myself. In the way of dreams, sometimes I dreamed more than one thing happened at once, so I dreamed that she watched me jerking off to her at the same time we were having a threesome, or I grabbed her, or taunted and tied her, or bit her hard where she was most sensitive, or any other the many dark variations of something else. My grip on my resistance was slipping. I thought more and more of Stephanie, not just sexually, but in every way. There wasn't just the step-father with his step-daughter relationship to consider. There was the age difference. There was the fact that I had certain inclinations, necessities even, and she was young to learn about the world of dominance and submission. Perhaps that level of trust, mentally, physically, spiritually, the light and darkness that world encompasses, might not be right for her. Then again, it might. It was late Sunday afternoon. She was at the stove again, in a way a mirror of the first turn down this road, when I snapped. Her hair was half up and half falling out of a loose bun and she was just wearing a long, loose black Guns & Roses T-shirt and nothing else. Stephanie was making an omelet, minding her own business, and she never saw me coming. I felt my body heat up. There was an increasingly loud roar in my head. I lunged at her, startling her, so she made a noise between a yelp and a squeal, and I turned off the burner and shoved the pan away. I squeezed her whole body tight to mine, and I mean hard, just for a millisecond. She felt so good. So much better even than I dreamed about, and I dreamed plenty. I rotated our bodies so we were facing the counter. I forced her arms together grabbed both her wrists together in one big hand and then pressed her hands down firmly on the counter edge. Her breathing was loud. I grabbed her hips and lifted her up, yanking her lower body fast, her feet coming off the floor for a second, as I pulled her back where I wanted her. She squeaked, a beautiful, high-pitched, helpless sound. Stephanie. Hands grabbing the edge of the counter, back flat, butt in the air, nestled against my cock. Oh yeah. I drew back slightly and then slammed my hips into her ass and locked my hands over hers before I even knew what I was doing. I had her where I wanted her. Then I plastered my body against hers. I was breathing heavy. "Wha—" she said. I growled at her. "Keep your hands there." Part of me couldn't believe I was doing this. Some animal had taken over. I ran my hand down her front, right over one free swinging breast. Yes, they were bigger, softer, fuller than they looked. Yes, I was going to bite that. I grew hard against her ass. I continued to slide my hand down to the bottom of the shirt, up under it, right around the top edge of her panties, buried under, dipped into her. Just a little. Soaking. "Is this what you want?" I whispered. My voice was rough. She pushed back against me. I dipped my hand into her further. She whimpered. I pulled my hand away. "Steph," I said, and my voice was rough. "If you want to say no, the time is right now." "Yes," she whispered. I put my hand back under her shirt. I caressed around one breast, to her back, and down to her ass. Her skin was so, so soft. It was hard to take a second, to think what I was doing. Yet somehow I wanted to establish some kind of dominant control. Right here from the beginning. I just wasn't sure what. Then what came out of my mouth was a surprise, even to me. "In this household there are only two rules," I said. "One, you do not come without my permission." My voice was harsh. I slipped my fingers back inside her, took her honey and ran a circle around her clit, teasing lightly, then firmer. "Do you understand me?" She nodded. "Say it." "I won't come without your permission," she panted. "And two, you will come exactly when I tell you to." It was ridiculous. Even with my Dom tendencies this was a little much. But it was like I was caught in some game I couldn't escape. I was asking too much, too far out of control, felt my brain slip past okay into unreasonable but my absolute need took over and the monster in me said and did what it wanted. "Good," I said directly into her ear and my voice was even gruffer. "If I fucking tell you to come now, you are going to explode right then." I found her exact sweet spot and worked it mercilessly. She moaned and pressed back against me. "Understand?" She nodded vigorously. "Yes." "Yes, Sir," I said. "Now say it." "Yes, Sir," she said. "Good." I wanted to make her say the whole thing from the beginning, but I got so lost in the smell of her, the way the T-shirt was riding up high on her back, the way her breasts were swinging. I worked her harder. She was so wet now she was starting to drip over my hand. Her legs shook. "Say it again," I said. "I will come exactly when you tell me to." I scraped a nail over that spot and she screamed. Her head fell suddenly, as if her neck went suddenly boneless. "Say it." She started panting and I could tell she was having trouble processing. She started shaking all over, violent shakes. "Please..." she begged. "Please let me come." Her knees gave out under her. I grabbed her hips, holding her up, but I didn't stop the onslaught. If anything I increased it. "Say. It." The electricity was running so high throughout her body I could feel the current galloping from her head to her toes, burning every cell of her body and into mine. Her words were a cry. "Two. I...will"—her breasts heaved up and down with the effort swinging—"will...will... I... will... ha... come," she took in a deep breath, battling for air. I stilled my fingers. "Exactly when you tell me to." I slipped two fingers deep inside her. "NOW!" I yelled. Her whole body shuddered around me, over and over, and while she was still coming I guided her down to the floor and plunged into her. A huge hunger washed over me. I had her on her hands and knees and I was plowing into her but it wasn't enough. I flipped her over and entered her again, pushing her knees way up, almost by her ears as I tried to think of something to slow myself down. The need, the charge, the desperate lust was electrifying, there was nothing to temper it. I pictured chaining her to floor, opening her up, delving into her further. All the while my pumping continued, ever increasing to a more and more furious pace. Her "unh, unh, unh" sounds made me wonder if she was going to come again. Then she squeezed her muscles around me and I peeked hard and flew right over the abyss. Tom and Stephanie's story continues in A Reluctant Step-father Ch. 2 I work hard on all my stories, sometimes writing and editing for as much as 3 to 4 hours a day. Thanks to Cia for her diligent and thoughtful edits. I upload edits and changes as soon as I make them. If you liked my story please take a minute to give it a high five. I hope you will read it again and again. Please visit my author page. I read every email from fans, and try to answer each one individually. Many blessings. Happy reading; I hope you enjoyed. MJ A Reluctant Stepfather Ch. 02 Dear Reader, This is chapter 2. You may want to read one first, you can click on my author page to get there. * I realized I was still on the kitchen floor, lying on top of Stephanie, completely spent. I buried my face in her shoulder, almost afraid to look up. When everything stopped pounding and blood flow returned to my brain I was flooded with a tidal wave of feelings. Disbelief at my lack of restraint forefront among them. I had just thrown her down and taken her. And I had ridden her hard. Maybe too hard. Then I felt her rib cage heaving up and down. Like a huge racking sob type of movement. Shit. Oh my God, did I hurt her? I looked up. "Stephanie, are you okay?" She was laughing. Laughing? "Okay. Are you kidding? I'm bloody fantastic. Like every-cell-in-my-body-singing fantastic. Like call everyone you ever knew and--" I panicked. "Stephanie, you can't TELL anybody." "Well of course not. I'm saying that if I could I would shout it from the roof tops and say I'M GREAT." She let out peals of joyous laughter. I couldn't help laughing too. "But next time let's use a bed, shall we. This tile's freaking hard on my back." "Stephanie," I said firmly, back in parent mode. "There can't be a next time." I helped her up. Zipped the convict back in where he belonged. Tried to make myself look serious and remorseful. I heard what I had said but part of me couldn't believe I said it. She was right, it had been fucking fantastic. Which might explain why my voice hadn't been all that convincing. I said it again, more firmly. "There can't be a next time." She looked at me and by the twitching of her lips I could tell she was trying hard to surprise a smile. "Right," she said. "Absolutely. Right-o." Stephanie pulled her shirt up as she walked away so I got a clear view of her ass. "Definitely, definitely, not," she said over her shoulder. Oh, I was so screwed. I put my head in my hands. I was torn. Because yeah, I was screwed. And... I wanted more. Much, much, more. I wanted to be so, soooo screwed. Every which way. And I know who I wanted it from. And she was only one room away. I looked up and prayed for willpower. And then I prayed that I wouldn't have any. That night in bed, I replayed what happened in the kitchen over and over, and it didn't lose any of its heat. If anything it got hotter. I could hear her labored breathing. Her squeak, the squeal, the panting. How hard it was for her to get words out. How fierce and growling I sounded demanding them from her. And I could smell her, hear the slapping sounds we made after I threw her down onto the floor and pounded into her over and over. My thumb fingered the waste band of my boxers, hesitating, deciding. I got up. Padded silently over to Stephanie's room. Listened. I couldn't hear anything. Her door was slightly opened. I knocked on it. "Stephanie?" "Yeah?" "Can I come in?" "Yeah." I'm just going to talk to her. See if she's okay. We never talked about it. I peeked in, opening the door bit by bit. She was wearing a pink baby doll night gown, she sat up when she saw me. "Steph, are you alright?" "Yes," she said. "No." She opened her arms and I went to her. "What do you mean 'no'?" I asked. I rubbed a hand down her jaw. "No," she said more firmly. She glided her hands over my chest. She leaned in and kissed me, lightly touching her lips to mine before clutching my shoulders. "I'm not alright. I need more. And I need it from you." And just like that in a blink of an eye she was underneath me, her arms extended up above her head, wrists pinned against the bed held down by my hand, her hips thrusting up against me before I even realized I'd moved. Part of me tried to stop myself, but I couldn't. Stephanie moaned and her mouth opened. I released her wrists. Suddenly I wanted to touch her everywhere. My hands coasted up and down her sides, skimmed over her breasts. I grabbed her head and kissed her, holding her while I plundered her mouth with more blind passion than finesse. I tried to force myself to slow down, but her writhing under me just spurred me on. It had been so long. And everything about her seemed so right. I grabbed the neckline of her nightgown and ripped it down the middle. Jesus. My rational and my mind were torn in two as well. I spread my hand out low on her abdomen, forcing her into the mattress as she struggled up to get to me. I paused, trying to clear my head. "Please, don't stop," Stephanie panted. She pushed her hips up more. She was thrashing. I leaned forward and used my whole torso and arms to pin her down, freezing her in place. "Stephanie. Stop. We have to talk about this." She shook her head no. No talking. But we had to talk. Shit. We hadn't used a condom. "Fuck, Steph. We need to--" She surged up and kissed me, a hot searing brand that sent all thoughts out of my mind. I grabbed one of her legs and wrapped it around me as I kissed her back. I was rocking my hips into her, dry humping her practically, and ready to explode. Fuck. I had to find a way to slow down. This afternoon had been over in a flash. I didn't want her to think I was the kind of guy who went up in a blaze of glory every time. I have GOT to get control of this situation. I rolled over and rolled her on top of me. I fitted her to me until her bare core was riding over the cotton covering my erection. I guided her until her arms were behind her head, and I helped lift and lower her in a very slow lazy rhythm. Once she had it going I stared at her, opening the two halves of her gown to caress her breasts, unabashedly staring at her beauty. Only the young could have such big, full breasts and still have them be so high and round and ... perfect. I pictured licking them, biting her softly, placing little kisses fiery kisses on them. I felt the slow burn in my cock. She must have seen the fire in my eyes. She laughed. I bit my bottom lip. "Bring me one of those beautiful tits, baby." I pulled on the two halves of her gown, urging her torso closer to me. "Come on, Sweetie. You're so beautiful. Bring them to me." I pictured squeezing them together and making them into a personal glove for my dick to slide into and I had to squeeze my eyes shut against the vision before my brain went thermonuclear. She leaned forward and when she brought her breast to my face I sucked her nipple into my mouth and I felt a shaft of white light strike straight through to my cock. I pulled my boxers off as I greedily sucked on her. It was weird how much I wanted all of her inside me but more than that I wanted to be inside her. So I reluctantly let her nipple out of my mouth and reached toward the bedside table for a condom. Stephanie saw what I was doing and stopped my reach. We stayed there with her hand on my arm. She shook her head. "You haven't been with anyone since my mom, right?" I shook my head in answer to her question but I said, "You should always use a condom, Stephanie." "I've only ever been with one person, years ago, and he was a virgin. So I'm totally clean and you're totally clean and even if we weren't we've already done it once already--" "You could still get pregnant." "I'm on the pill." "Still, Stephanie, its a--" She reached under herself and started working me with her hand as she moved up and down. "Please..." she said. She lowered herself just a tiny bit and I could feet the very tip of the head of my cock breach her folds. My fucking God, she was wet and tight. This girl is going to be my undoing. "Please..." she said again. I closed my eyes against her. But I nodded. She lowered herself slowly and she was so hot and slick and wet it took all of my control not to thrust up into her. So. Fucking. Tight. I opened my eyes. She was glowing. I smiled at her. She smiled back. I ran my palm down the center of her chest. "Now move for me, baby," I said. She moved up and down, nice and slowly, mimicking the rhythm I had set before. I touched her clit gently and watched her surprise turn to joy. "Turn around for me, baby." She twisted her torso around to look at the door behind her. "Huh?" "No," I said and smiled at her. "Face the other way. Reverse cowgirl." Her brows furrowed. She had no idea what I meant. I gestured with my fingers that she should get up and turn. "You want me to fuck you... backwards?" She was so young. I bit my lip to stop from laughing. "Don't you laugh at me," she said. "Don't you dare laugh at me. How am I supposed to know these things? I was only ever with one guy and he was a wanker. We only ever did missionary. I don't know anything else." I just stared at her. She lowered her voice and tried to make it sexy. "So you'll have to teach me." "Yes," I said. "I want to fuck you. Forwards and backwards. Backwards and forwards. Every way you've ever heard of and apparently some you haven't. Get up and face the other way. Do it." She did. She was tentative. "You'll have to guide it in," I told her. She whimpered a little, trying to find her angle. I put a hand gently on her hip. "Easy. Easy, baby. Open your knees up more. Lean forward a little bit." She found a spot that was sweet for her and sank down onto me. I groaned. I ran a finger gently from her toes to thighs to her ass. "Alright, put your hands on my thighs and..." but by then she was moving and I leaned back, watching that gloriously tight ass go up and down over my hips. She was dripping, and I had an amazing view. I could see all of her. I used my fingers to spread the cheeks of her ass apart and stared at my cock going in and out of her pussy. I was entranced by how my hands made a huge frame around her hips, her asshole, her cunt, my cock, her thighs. Oh, God. Fuck she was beautiful. Stephanie was grunting; starting to speed up. "Keep it slow, baby. Nice and slow." She slowed down. "Yes, Sir," she whispered. "That's a good girl," I said. "Put your hands on my ankles," I said. She twisted around to look at me. "On your... ankles?" "Yeah," I said. She leaned way forward and grabbed my ankles and rode me. I hit a kind of trance; it was so good. I pushed her gown out of the way and ran a finger down the elegant arch in her back. Suddenly a memory of Marie in the hospital a few days before she died came to mind. She was walking to the bathroom. It was only a few feet from her bed. She could barely make it but she wouldn't accept my help. The hospital gown swung open to revel her lower back and ass, which had been some of her best features but on that day looked as deathly as the rest of her. Marie stopped at the doorjamb of the bathroom, leaned against it. "Promise me you'll love again, Tom. Promise me." I was right beside her, shaking my head. "You're too young to pine. I don't care who she is. She could be a raging bitch or a 400 pound slacker. Just open your heart again. As soon as you can. Promise." "No," I had said. Marie shut the bathroom door. "I'm not coming out until you promise." I put my forehead against the door. "I promise." I said. I came back to the present because Stephanie was keening, wailing, saying something I couldn't understand. I looked at her smooth skin, his lush body, her beautiful pussy taking my cock in over and over again and something in my heart opened up, warmth spilling from my chest down through my toes. She was repeating something. Repeating it over and over. "Pleaseletmecomepleaseletmecome." "What?" I asked her sharply. She must have thought it was a reprimand because she panted in a new syllable in there. "Please let me come, Sir." I didn't understand why she was asking me, but then I remembered this afternoon. Oh, yeah. I told her that she couldn't come unless I let her. "Not yet. Lean forward," I said. She did. "More," I said. Stephanie leaned forward until her face wasn't far from where she was grabbing my ankles. "Now, as fast as you can baby, ride." And she did, up and down. The pressure built so fast I bowed up underneath her with my effort not to explode. "Please let me come," she said. "Not yet," I said. I grabbed her hips and slammed her down on me while I thrust up into her over and over as hard as I could. She started screaming and with one loud roar I exploded. "OKAY. NOW," I said. She convulsed around me, those glorious tight squeezes milking the last bit from me as we both collapsed. "Holy fuck," she said. "Yeah," I said. "Can we do that again, Daddy?" she said. I smacked her on the ass. "Get up here," I said. Stephanie changed her position until she rested her head on my shoulder. I put my arm around her and cuddled her to my chest. We stayed that way, relearning how to breathe. "You know what? This is going to sound weird but... I think that... healed something inside me," she said. "You and me both, baby girl." I kissed the top of her head. "You and me both." And then she was crying. "Fuck. Steph. What?" And then I felt like a heel. I was the adult here I had been trying to do the right thing. I gathered her up even more and rained tiny kisses on her face, kissing her tears. "God, Stephanie." I jostled her. "What?" "It was just... just..." "What, baby doll? Tell me." For God's sake, Stephanie, please. "Just so good." "So why are you crying?" She sobbed harder. "I don't know." We started laughing. "Catharsis, I guess," she said. "You work at a college you're bound to use big words," I said, kissing the top of her head. "Or maybe it's like, you know, crying when, why women cry at weddings when they're so happy," she said. I smiled at that. I reached over and got some tissues. "Dry your eyes drippy. Get up and go to the bathroom, then come back and I'll hold you for a few minutes before I go back to my room." She nodded and did what she was told. Part of me wanted to hold her through the whole night, but that wasn't a good idea. This wasn't a relationship. Stephanie came back to bed and I tucked her head under my chin as I held her tightly. "Soooo..." she said in a voice that she tried to pitch low, "Do you think there's anything else you can teach me?" Still a manipulative little brat. "I might be able to think of a thing or two," I said. If you're good. # # # Dear Reader, Positive comments keep me going! (PG comments only please.) I read every note and suggestion, if you find any errors, please let me know, I welcome corrections. If you enjoyed the story, please rate it highly! Enjoy! I look forward to hearing from you. MJ A Reluctant Stepfather Ch. 03 Luckily it was the work week again, and I had three new heavy-duty projects with rush deadlines come in early Monday morning. Thankfully also I'm the type of guy who can compartmentalize. Like completely lock down and separate parts of your brain compartmentalize, because while I've always known I lean toward bent, as far as Stephanie was concerned, I was feeling more and more perverted. Bordering on 'I was concerned if I let my brain run wild eventually it would run toward you should lock me up' perverted. And I didn't care. So I did what any respectful step-father would do. I avoided her. This worked pretty well Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. I kept my office door shut. I worked long hours. I focused like a motherfucker. Thursday I hit a snag. She wasn't rushing around the kitchen in the morning like usual while I was eating breakfast, but truthfully I didn't notice. About 10 a.m. I heard some movement in the hall. She must have taken the day off from work. Fuck. Focus, Tom. Back to work. I had deadlines to meet. So much for compartmentalizing. It was only Thursday. Yes, part of me knew there were reasons I should resist her, tell her I would never sleep with her again. But the truth was it was a hell of a lot more than sex or proximity or any of her great traits that was wearing my reluctance so thin. It was all of her, the total package, the big picture. I was falling for her. I wanted to do something nice for her, romantic, not be an old letch. Unfortunately she was home, which was beyond distracting, and I didn't know what she was planning. I had a feeling she was up to no good. I stayed barricaded in my office. I usually eat lunch around twelve, but still hearing her move around the house I decided to pass. About three o'clock my stomach started to rumble. I'm not going to fucking work on an empty stomach. I'll be damned if I'm going to let my step-daughter control my actions. I walked into the hall—no Stephanie in sight. I went to the kitchen and fixed myself a can of beef-tomato-vegetable soup. Aah. Totally hit the spot. I opened the paper to the sections I hadn't read at breakfast, semi-absentmindedly spooning soup into my mouth while reading about some mucky-muck merger. I heard heels clicking. I turned around. My eyes bugged out of my head. I dropped my spoon and coughed so hard I spit out a mouthful of soup and snorted some out of my nose. "Holy shit! Steph!" I blinked hard. She was wearing a modified Catholic school-girl uniform. A tight white button-down shirt, opened low and tied-up high, a blue and green plaid pleated skirt hemmed up to the top of her thighs, black and white... what the fuck do they call them? Saddle shoes, but with a little bit of a heel. And fucking pig tails. Two really high, even pig tails. I slowly looked her up and down and back up and down again. Fantastic cleavage. Creamy expanse of smooth stomach. Long legs looking longer in the short skirt. She put the tip of her forefinger in her mouth and looked at me sheepishly. I waited for my galloping heartbeat to return to normal. It didn't. "Holy fucking crap, Stephanie, what the fuck are you doing?" Her face fell a little bit. "What am I doing?" she asked in a little girl voice, as if she was confused by my reaction. Like I didn't know what she was doing. She looked about sixteen. I had to remind myself that she was a grown woman. I had to remind my brain that she was a grown woman. My cock didn't give a shit. "You don't like it?" She asked in even more of a little girl voice, a seeking approval voice. Oh yeah. I like it. I like it a lot. She waited. I made her wait longer. Then I crooked my finger at her. "Come here, baby doll," I said. "You didn't come back to me," she said in a pouty voice as she walked to me. "I had to do something." I pushed my chair back from the table. When she got to me I grabbed her and settled her so she was sitting across my lap. I nuzzled my nose into her neck. She smelled like baby powder. "Devious, Stephanie. Really devious." She wriggled her ass in my lap a little bit. I clamped a hand down firmly on her hip to still her. I was going to have to be careful with this one. "Honey," I said slowly. "It was good to have some space. I wasn't not going to come back to you. I was just waiting for the weekend." She nodded. I massaged the back of her neck and slowed my breathing down until she automatically matched her breathing to mine. I stroked those great, silky pig tails. Her hair had gotten longer. I rubbed slow circles on her middle back until she melted against me. "That's it, baby," I said. "I just wanted you back," she said. "You hadn't lost me, Steph." I caressed the smooth skin between her collarbones and her cleavage, occasionally dipping for a second toward the top of her breasts. I pulled her even closer into my chest, marveling at the way we fit. It had been so long since I'd had a woman. So damn long. And I wanted to do right by Stephanie, I really did. I didn't want to rush her. Despite the fact that she was sitting on my lap like a dirty old man's fantasy. I kept up the slow figure eight pattern on her upper chest until she was nice and relaxed. Which made me happy. But that wasn't how I really wanted her was it? I untied the front of her shirt. And stared at the plainest, most innocent white bra I'd ever seen. I groaned. And... it had a front snap. Bless her heart. I unsnapped it one-handed and pushed it open, just a little bit, letting the view of the sides of her breasts tease me. The shirt and bra caught on the curves of her breasts, so that just a strip of skin down the middle of her body showed. It was incredibly hot, just the sides of her breast barely showing, the material clinging to her. I didn't think I could get much harder, but I was, growing underneath that sweet ass. "Thank you for this gift, baby," I whispered in her ear. "I saw you from the school yard," she said in an even younger tone. Oh God, was she really going to play this that far? "And I wanted you to teach me... everything." I groaned again. Oh yeah. I'll teach you all right. I put my hand under the flap of her open shirt and traced her nipple through the part of her bra that was still clinging to her. She jerked a little like it was a new sensation to her. God I liked it. I'm a perverted fuck. I peeled her bra back and rolled her nipple between my fingers, watching it pop up in my hand. Oh yeah. I am going to fuck you so hard you are going to beg me to stop. Too late now, little girl. You got yourself into this. I pinched her nipples a little harder. She made a little noise, a sound between a moan and a whimper. "So nice. So reactive," I said. I started breathing heavy, all my pent-up days of want threatening to barrel down on me. I reined myself in. "I'm going to open this a little more, baby doll," I said gently, and opened her shirt and bra more, freeing her breasts. "That's what I like," I said. I scraped my teeth down her neck and she shivered. "Play with them," I said. Her eyes got wide like saucers. "You want me to... touch myself?" I almost laughed because her innocent act was so overdone, but she was arching her upper back, and it was too hot for laughter. I leaned back a little and let her see the heat in my eyes. "Yes. That's what I want." I made my voice hard and commanding. "Do it." She did, and it was like the hottest porno I've ever seen—times ten. I pulled her legs open and slid my hand up her thigh. I reached her upper thigh, and I could feel the heat radiating off her. I resisted the desire to throw her down on the floor. I slipped my hands a little higher, just barely into her outer folds. She was already soaked. The excitement spiked through me, rocketing from my toes to my cock. I had to grit my teeth to make myself remove my hand. "Get down on your knees and blow me," I commanded. "I—" "Do it." "I don't know how." I smiled at her. "I'll teach you." She kneeled down in front of me. Her expression was shy, tentative. She had trouble opening my jeans with the pressure I was pushing up from the inside of my fly, but I didn't help her; I let her struggle. When she pulled my cock free it sprang up, immediately getting even harder and longer as she blinked in awe at it. "Is it all the way on?" she asked. That's it. We both cracked up. And just like that she was out of the role and back to being Stephanie again. She was so into it she meant it when she said it, but she cracked herself up so hard she broke her trance. Stephanie shook herself, rearranged her face like she'd never seen a penis before, and touched near the rim tentatively. "Is it all the way on?" she repeated. Why don't you find out little girl? "No," I said. "It will get harder and bigger. If you follow instructions." "Really?" "If you do it right," I said. "How?" she asked. "Lick your hand," I said. She darted her tongue out to the back of her hand and gave it a little lick. "Noooo," I said, holding my palm out. "Look at me. Lick all the way up your palm in one wet, thick draw." She did what she was told. "Now wrap your hand around my cock." She did, very gently. "You can hold it more firmly than that," I said. She pressed a tiny bit more firmly. "Harder." "I won't break it?" I smiled down at her. "You won't break it." Stephanie tightened up her hand just the right amount. "Good girl." She looked up at me waiting to hear what to do next. "Put your mouth over me, down until you reach your hand." Hearing myself say this to her turned me on even more. A drop of pre-cum pearled up and hovered on the tip. "What does it taste like?" she asked in a juvenile voice filled with curiosity and wonder, as if she were asking herself. My voice went into a low growl. "Why don't you find out?" She reached out one finger, gingerly. "Nooooo..." I said. Fast as a whip I lunged at her. I grabbed that finger hard and pushed it away while with the other hand I wrapped one pig tail around my fist and yanked her head nearer to my cock. I used her hair like a handle to drag her even closer. She slanted her eyes up to me. "Not with your finger." I couldn't believe I was doing this. She stretched the very tip of her tongue up and lapped up that drop. I closed my eyes to fight against the rising need at the sight of her. I released her hair. She tasted me again and made a smacking sound. "It's...." I opened my eyes and looked at her. "Salty." "Do you like it?" I found myself asking. She nodded vigorously. Very, very vigorously. Oh fuck. "Blow me, Stephanie." She looked at me. "Do I wrap my lips around my teeth? Where do I put my tongue?" I closed my eyes again. Told myself that concentrating on instruction would calm me down. It didn't. "You wrap your top lip around your teeth a little. Put your tongue flat on the underside of my cock. Don't think about it so much. Just do it." I palmed the back of her head and pressed her toward my cock. She touched the very tip with her tongue before she slowly took me in until her lips slid down until she met the top of her hand. Fuck yeah. "Now move your hand and—" But she was already moving her mouth and hand up and down together. My eyes rolled back in my head. Best blow job ever. Then she stopped. "Is that okay?" "Yeah, baby doll. That's okay." I pressed her back to where she was. I closed my eyes for a second, thinking about her. "Tighten up on the suction a tiny bit," I said. She did. "That's it baby, oh fuck, Stephanie, yeah, like that." She instinctively started to go faster and faster, and my balls seized up. My whole body tightened up like a spring with the need to fuck her mouth. "Slow down, baby." But she went faster, and I felt on the verge of losing everything, my sanity included. "Slow it down." I grabbed her pig tails and yanked her off me way harder than I had meant to. "Stop!" "Did I do something wrong? I did something wrong." "No honey, you didn't." I crouched in front of her. "No baby, you didn't." "Then why did you st—" I put my finger over her lips. "You were too good," I said. "And I wanted some left for this." I stood up and pulled her up with me. I smacked her hands down on the edge of the table and walked behind her. I pressed my front against her backside. "And this," I said. I stepped back and grabbed her hips and yanked her until she had her arms extended, her back even with the table, that gorgeous high firm ass facing me. God I loved looking at her like this, a perfect fucking from behind position. I caressed that amazing curve in her spine. I reached under her short skirt and pulled her white panties down, very slowly. I pushed her low back down a little, arching her. I lifted just the very edge of her skirt, seeing how glistening wet she was and lined up the head of my cock with her folds. "Wait!" she cried. "There's something I haven't told you," she said quietly. "What?" I asked. "I'm a virgin," she whispered. Oh God. I plunged into her. * Chapter 4 I paused, just like I would have done if I were in a virgin and waiting for her to adjust to the new sensation. "It's crazy with you, Steph, fucking crazy." She twisted around and grinned at me, a truly wicked grin. She clamped her pussy muscles around my cock. Aaaaaah, fuck. She was done playing the shy virgin apparently. But still hot as hell. I grabbed onto her hips, cranking my grip down hard, and pounding in and out with long strokes. Her moaning noises were amazing. Incredibly, I had a moment of sanity. I remembered this was not all about me, about my pleasure, about my cock. I reached around until I could finger her clit at the same time and the pitch of her noises got a lot higher. Now that's better. Except she clenched her tightness around me harder, and oh shit, she was so hot. Something in my heart broke loose. All my crazy will I, won't I, should I, I shouldn't, I want to, it's not right, flew way out the window got pulverized to dust. We barreled toward our climaxes like one crazy flying phoenix. I was sweating and grunting and she was making this high-pitched moan. She came first, thank God, and I came a second after her, then promptly collapsed on top of her like some Neanderthal. "Baby doll," I said. "Mmmn," she said. I pulled out as gently as I could. I love you, I thought. But I didn't say anything. Saying I love you right after hot gorilla monkey sex isn't exactly the kind of timing for a profession of love that really lays the beauty of the moment on a girl. And if there was anything in the world I wanted, it was to do right by her. "Baby doll," I said again. I just picked her up in my arms and cradled her to my chest. I carried her back to her room as if she weighed almost nothing. "I don't even know what to say to you, Sweetheart," I said. "You are freaking gorgeous, and amazing in bed, and holy hell, an old man's wet dream hot." I put her down gently once I got to her room and took off her shoes. "I... I know we need to talk but I think you fucked all the thinking-talking cells out of me for now." She smiled. "Seriously Stephanie, I don't want to seem like an asshole. I can't take any more of my inner flip-flopping. How much I want you is driving me crazy, may always drive me crazy. I know it's not like I helped raise you at all, so it's not like I'm really..." Stephanie put her finger to my lips. Thank God because I don't know what the hell else I was going to say. "We're here. We're adults. We should enjoy what we have." I lay back down and cuddled her to me. "I will never, never do wrong by you if I can help it, Steph." "I know." "Don't ever where that outfit again," I said. She looked at me, wide-eyed, like a doe caught in headlights. "Just don't, it's too much. I'm not sure my heart can take it." She smiled, wide and happy, showing off perfect teeth. My body cooled and a heavy feeling settled over me that it was unlikely that something like this could ever last. We had become good friends, and great roommates. We had a lot in common. Now we had powerful lust and a few sessions of great sex. But facts were facts. I came from a traditional household where you didn't mack on your dead wife's daughter, much less fuck her. Face it, this wasn't a one-time slip. This was a relationship. I turned on my side to face her. I kissed her as tenderly as I could. The fierce desire to keep her safe roared up in me. I wanted to build her a fortress, a nest egg, put her in my will. "Baby, I should get up and get back to work." "Okay," she said in a tired voice. "Do you want a glass of water or anything?" "Mm-hmn." I got a glass of water from the kitchen, brought it to her, and watched her drink it. I felt like I should say something but I didn't know what to say. "You're absolutely beautiful, Steph." "Mmn." She turned away from me and pulled the blanket up to her chin. What the hell was I going to do? "I'll make dinner tonight," I said. "Okay," she said. "Love you, baby," I said kissing her forehead. Did I just say that? She looked at me at that one and smiled. "Love you too, Tom." Holy fucking hell but I was in deep. Balls to the wall, cement shoes to the ocean floor and then some deep. I pet the top of her head, brushed her hair off her forehead. Her breathing got deeper. I bit the inside of my cheek. Life was weird. I wanted to shower her with diamonds and make sure she never was in harm's way. I shook my head at myself as I left her room. I just knew I wanted more. That was probably the best fuck of my life. And it satisfied me like nothing ever had. But at the same time, like an addict, I wanted a constant supply, more and more and more. My dick gave one quick throb at the idea of how willing she'd been, that soon enough, I'd be able to have her again. What the hell was tomorrow going to be like, and the day after tomorrow? Fuck. I was going to focus on work. And get a cardiovascular check-up. With any luck I was going to need it. # # # Dear Reader, Please be so kind as to vote quickly and honor me with a high five. It's only a mouse click away. This isn't so much an incest story, as a taboo story because of how Tom feels. I am working to make the series as good as I can. I'm posting the series as I finish each part. Please be kind and patient. Please visit my author page. I welcome positive feedback. I try to listen to fans and tweak stories and make them better regularly, as I recently did with ch. 1 Thanks, sincerely; MJ