4 comments/ 48038 views/ 6 favorites My Nightmare, My Dream By: SmallTitFan This is the story of a marriage which was supposed to be a dream come true, but it turned out to be a nightmare. The only good that came from this "dream" marriage to Gretchen was my relationship with her daughter, Miss Sarah. Gretchen and I dated many years ago here in Georgia and then we broke up. Oh, how I wish it had remained that way. How very much better off I would be, but that is not what happened, and I have only myself to blame. When someone dies, we tend to forget their flaws and frailties and too often the dearly departed is soon canonized under the authority of their survivors' faulty memories. So, too, do we remember our failed relationships. We usually forget the good and remember only the bad, helping ourselves to detach and not mourn the loss of love. But sometimes, particularly for melancholics, we forget the bad and remember only the good, and we are haunted by the memory of love lost, dogged by the unanswered question of what might have been. No, many years later, I went looking for the girl from my past who had haunted me, the girl who I could not get out of my thoughts, the girl against whom every other girl in my life had been measured. I found her in Ohio, in the midst of a divorce and raising her daughter. When Gretchen and I had dated many years earlier, she had been a cute, sweet, slender, petite young girl who also happened to have big breasts. She was the kind of girl that would make a father proud if his son was dating her. That, however, was almost 30 years ago and time, unfortunately, had not been kind to Gretchen. Cute had become slightly wrinkled, petite had become a little dumpy, and big-breasted had become saggy-titted. Perhaps I'm being a bit tough on her. Actually, she wasn't unattractive for her age and I really didn't expect that, at age 48, she would look like she had at age 24. However, Gretchen was no longer a beauty queen and she definitely had no potential to be called a "trophy wife." She was the kind of woman who would prompt guys to say, 'well, I wouldn't kick her out of bed,' but, of course, there are not too many guys who will kick any woman out of bed when they need to get laid, so this isn't exactly glowing praise for Gretchen. To everyone else, Gretchen's daughter was Sarah. When it became obvious that Gretchen would move back to Georgia to live with me, I jokingly told her daughter that I would address her as I would any Southern young lady and I hoped that she would aspire to adopt some Southern mannerisms and gentility. With that explanation, I began to call her Miss Sarah and, from that day forward, I always called her Miss Sarah. When I first met Miss Sarah, she was 18 years old but only a junior in high school. Thanks to her mother's lack of caring about education, Miss Sarah had failed a grade in elementary school and they had never pursued any opportunity for Miss Sarah to try to catch up with the other children her own age. This was quite shameful, because Miss Sarah was actually an intelligent young lady. She was not Einstein's cousin but she was definitely above average intelligence. However, if was Miss Sarah's beauty, and not her brains, which was most captivating. She had the face of an angel. If she had been painted by daVinci, people today would be saying "Mona who?" She had big brown eyes which could melt any man's heart at any time and under any circumstances. She had big pouty lips which begged to be kissed. Like her mother, she had big breasts which were certainly too large to be called "pert" or "perky" but which were definitely young and firm and not saggy like Gretchen's hooters. Miss Sarah's little behind was so cute that I always just wanted to grab it and squeeze. She had a few – a very few – extra pounds which needed to disappear, the kind of pounds which usually were referred to as "baby fat," but she really wasn't fat. She was a nubile goddess, an undefiled example of sensual innocence and budding sexuality. She was a goddess, she was my goddess. * * * After I had located Gretchen in Ohio and re-established our communications, I eventually went there to visit. I won't bore you with too many details of me regularly fucking a 48 year-old, overweight, saggy-titted, used-up, has-been housewife in every room of her house, including her daughter's bedroom. I won't bore you because it was just fucking. Now, it wasn't bad sex because, quite honestly, I've never had bad sex. But, as they say, I've never had bad sex, but some of that sex is better than the rest. This sex wasn't the better kind. Of course, I told Gretchen that it was great sex, but, really, it was just fucking. One morning, Gretchen and I awoke early, long before her daughter was capable of opening her eyes and putting both feet on the floor. I was horny, as usual, so we fucked on the sofa in the living room. The possibility that her daughter might wake up and catch us made it a little more exciting, and that at least partially compensated for the fact that Gretchen's pussy was a sloppy fit for any normal-sized guy. I don't know if it was loose from childbirth, excessive fucking in her youth, or years of her ex-husband stuffing an extra large dildo in her pussy three times a week (by her description, he was truly a twisted, sick son of a bitch,) but it was not a tight fit. After Gretchen and I had sex, we got dressed and fixed a cup of coffee. I stood in the family room behind Gretchen, who sat at her computer desk and began reviewing her e-mails. We spoke quietly for a minute as she scanned the long list of unopened items and then she became absorbed in a rather lengthy missive from a friend. I heard a noise in Miss Sarah's bedroom. Her bedroom adjoined the family room. She had slept with her door only partially closed, as was her habit. As you stood in her doorway facing into her room, her majority of her room was to the right, but her bedroom door was also hinged on the right side; very little of the room was visible from this vantage. In a more modern house, the door would have been hinged on the left side, but Gretchen's house was old and had several bizarre features. As you stood in the doorway with the door halfway open, you could not see much of her bedroom, except her antique dresser which was against the opposite wall straight ahead. The dresser had three mirrored sections. The middle section was fixed to the back of the dresser and the two side sections were hinged to the middle section and were angled slightly inwards. Miss Sarah probably assumed that she had some privacy when her bedroom door was halfway closed, because she couldn't see out of her room; however, from my vantage point in the dining room, the angled mirror on the left side of the dresser afforded a rather good view of what lay behind her partially closed door. I looked up and glanced towards her room. In the mirror, I saw that she had risen and was standing at the foot of her bed. She was wearing only bikini panties: tiny, white bikini panties. Just awakening, with tousled hair, she stood there, the sexiest vision of loveliness that I have ever seen. She had well-developed breasts, at least a 36C, and her areolae were a pinkish-brown color, each about the size of a silver dollar. As my gaze dropped to her panties, I could see a very prominent pubic mound. I immediately assumed that she had very firm and protruding labia. From that moment forward, I felt that I was living a life scripted by Vladimir Nabokov. Miss Sarah was my enticing young Lolita and it was at that very moment that I truly fell in love with her. Yes, I know that this sounds absurd and I hesitate to commit this recollection to writing. If the wrong person reads this, I will be publicly condemned and humiliated. But, just as I fell in love with her without any conscious exercise of free will, I similarly feel compelled to express these thoughts in prose. Perhaps the writing of this story will help to free me from the demon which possesses me, my obsession with Miss Sarah. Miss Sarah was totally unaware that I was watching her. Her mother was seated directly in front of me but fortunately still absorbed in her e-mail. My gaze continued unabated, my attention transfixed, my eyes feasting upon the delectable and innocent nakedness of Miss Sarah. The young goddess then placed her hands on her hips and slowly pulled her panties down just low enough so that her pussy was exposed. A man with a heart condition might not have survived that moment, but my heart continued to beat ever so strong with the same virile pulse that energized my burgeoning erection. I know that I would be flattering myself too much to think that she sensed my watchful eyes and simply wanted to lure me with a show of her most private treasures. No, the real explanation was probably much more mundane. She was likely waiting for her monthly flow to begin and was checking to see if it had started during the night. I can think of no other realistic reason why she would have pulled her panties down but, whatever the reason, I was glad for it. Miss Sarah's dark pubic hair was so bushy that I could not see her pussy lips at all. As I attempted to perceive her young hidden slit, she placed her right hand between her legs and cupped it so that it conformed to her body as she brought it in contact with her hairy young mound. She then removed her hand, looked at it briefly, and pulled her panties up. She reached for a bathrobe. I turned to face Gretchen, drew close to the back of her chair and began reading over her shoulder. When Miss Sarah emerged from her bedroom, she had no idea that I had just enjoyed my first look at her forbidden nakedness. Fortunately, she also could not see the tent pole in my pants. This stirring of my manhood was taking much longer than usual to subside. "What would it be like to have my dick inside that enticing young pussy?" I wondered as I placed my hands on her mother's shoulders. * * * Months later, Gretchen and her daughter moved to Georgia because it was obvious that Gretchen and I would eventually be married. It was surrealistic, much worse that "Waiting For Godot." It was like watching a train wreck in slow motion. The simplest application of logic suggested that such a thing should not happen. It was absurd to think that I would marry this woman. But I made no effort to extricate myself from the situation. I was a prisoner of complacency, a steady customer for Gretchen's offering - available and regular sex - even if it wasn't great sex. Fucking Gretchen was definitely better than taking matters into my own hands and, occasionally, Gretchen gave me really good oral sex. So time continued and the entire universe stood by silently as the train wreck unfolded. Gretchen, Miss Sarah, and I went camping just a few weeks after they had moved to Georgia. We had only one tent, so a certain amount of privacy would be compromised. We had one double sleeping bag which would be shared by Gretchen and Miss Sarah and another that would be occupied by only myself. When we got in the tent that night, Gretchen was the first to get into her sleeping bag. We had a lantern which provided just enough light so that we could see everything inside the tent. Gretchen had changed into pajamas in the Ladies Room but Miss Sarah was still wearing the jeans and tee shirt she had been wearing during the day. When Miss Sarah got to the point where she was ready to get in the sleeping bag, her mother was already sleeping soundly. In fact, Gretchen was making tiny little lady snores. They were just loud enough that Miss Sarah and I could hear them and we both knew exactly where the noise was coming from. The idea of her mother snoring made Miss Sarah giggle and it was a cute little laugh, in fact a seductive little laugh, a laugh that had me wanting to put my arms around her waist and hold her tightly. Miss Sarah said something about needing to change out of her clothes and then added that she didn't feel like walking the distance back to the Ladies Room to change. "Well, you're gonna be part of the family soon enough," she said. She didn't ask me to turn and look away while she changed. She simply removed her t-shirt and jeans and stood facing me, wearing only her panties and bra. I was glad that I was already in my sleeping bag, because as soon as I saw her panty covered mons, I had an erection. I also had an overwhelming urge to pull her panties down and bury my tongue in her pussy but, at the very same time, I wanted to bury my dick in her pussy and pound her virgin cunt until she begged me to stop. "Don't look," she said coyly, but she didn't wait for me to turn or close my eyes. She reached behind herself to release her tits from the confines of her lacy bra. As soon as the fastener was undone, she let the bra slip from her arms and she stood before me in only her panties. I had previously seen her breasts but welcomed the opportunity to become reacquainted once again with those twin pinnacles of inviting flesh, even if only from a distance. "You're beautiful," I whispered to her as she pulled a sleep shirt over her head, removing her lovely twin peaks from my field of vision. "And you're sweet. Goodnight, Ron," she said angelically as she entered her sleeping bag. "Goodnight, sweetie," I replied. After 15 minutes of thinking about nothing but Miss Sarah, her panties, her tits, and all the fun I would like to have with her, it was obvious that I was not going to sleep anytime soon. I unzipped my sleeping bag, stood up and pulled on my shorts. "Ron, where are you going?" Miss Sarah whispered from across the tent. "I've got to go pee," I said, but that was only half of the truth. I had to go jerk off so that I could get some sleep. My mind was filled with the image of this beautiful 18 year-old girl standing just a few feet away from me, clad only in her panties, my right hand inside those panties and my middle finger alternating between the depths of her wet pussy and the thrill of rubbing her clit. I could hear her moaning as clearly as if it was real and I spurted an unusually large load of cum as my fantasy Miss Sarah had her orgasm. * * * I began living in the house with Gretchen and her daughter after some severe weather came through our part of the state. From that time forward, Gretchen and I had frequent and mediocre sex. She had finally gotten over her hang-up about Miss Sarah hearing us, which I had accepted as a rather common hindrance to sex for most couples with kids. We were having sex at least 3 or 4 times per week, but even with the occasional oral sex, it quickly became very monotonous. I loved undressing Gretchen and enjoyed performing a slow seduction of her body and soul. She knew that, but she always simply undressed and got into bed naked. It was like she was saying to me, "well, here I am naked, so you might as well come fuck me and get it over with before I go to sleep." That didn't exactly create the mood for passionate lovemaking. I would start sucking on one nipple and rubbing on Gretchen's clit, mainly in broad circles, with very light pressure. Gretchen would start fondling my balls and stroking my dick. I would tell her to slow down. She would tell me to not rub her clit so hard. She would then reach for the lubricant and apply an ample amount to my shaft. Sometimes, she would also uses her fingers to apply some lube to her labia. When Gretchen started to become aroused, I would suck her nipple into my mouth and very lightly caress it with my teeth. This always took her to the next level. She would then get up "on all fours" and motion for me to get behind her. With her right hand between her legs, she would guide my dick to her ready and prepared pussy. I then would pump away to the rhythmic strains of Hot Dick And The Crotch Bumping Boogie. About 20-30 beats of that tune was usually all it took for me to release a supply of my seed into her hungry hole. Quite often, Gretchen would orgasm at the same time as me, but her orgasm lasted much longer. I would have 6 or 7 spurts, probably 2-3 seconds apart, and then my orgasm was done. I never timed it, but it probably lasted between 12 and 20 seconds. My dick would be extremely sensitive for the next minute or so, but the orgasm was over. She, on the other hand, would have an initial orgasm that lasted about 30 seconds. Then, the least movement or the slightest "dirty talk" from me would set her off again. If I pulled my dick back just the slightest or said something like "you're pussy feels good," she would begin her next orgasm and it would be every bit as long, and as strong, as the initial orgasm. Sometimes, it apparently took absolutely nothing to set her off again. She could go on with successive waves of ecstatic moans and total body orgasms for 5 minutes. Occasionally I would slide my index finger down her spine, ever so lightly, and the feather touch would cause her to orgasm again. When this happened, I would sometimes let my finger continue to slide further, down her ass crack and it would come to rest on her asshole. If she was in the midst of an orgasm when I did this, the intensity of her muscular contractions would at least double and I would feel her pussy grabbing my dick as if it didn't want to let go. When she had multiple orgasms like this, her pussy would contract and squeeze my dick and I would either pull out of her pussy or get hard again. I have never done this with any other partner, but I would occasionally be able to stay hard after I came and keep thrusting into her pussy, giving her several orgasms. Eventually, she would ask me to stop because she was exhausted. I would get a big grin on my face, like I was the king stud in this town. Maybe that's part of why I kept hanging around for more with Gretchen. At times, I was distracted and I knew that I would need stronger stimulation to bring me to the point of orgasm. On these occasions, I often thought about my Miss Sarah. I thought about kissing her lips. I thought about sucking on her nipples. I thought about playing with her cute ass. But most of all, I thought about having my dick in her pussy and thrusting until we both collapsed in a musky heap of orgasmic sweat and virgin pussy juice. These fantasies would always bring me to an orgasm. * * * With the schedules that we all had for work and school, I was often the last one to leave the house in the mornings. One morning, I passed by Miss Sarah's bedroom and the door was open. Despite my tremendous adoration for her, I certainly knew that the girl was not perfect. One of her faults was that she was very much a slob in the housekeeping of her bedroom. This day was no exception. She had dirty clothes strewn about her floor. I noticed a pair of her panties on the floor, crumpled up, obviously already worn, and waiting to be taken to the laundry. I looked out in the driveway to make sure that no one had returned home and then I entered the bedroom. I picked up the panties and held them in my hands. They were like gold coins to an explorer. I felt the fabric. I looked in the crotch of the panties and there was a slight damp stain in the panties. These must be the panties she was wearing last night, I thought. I held them to my nose and inhaled. What a deep, rich, earthy aroma was exuded from this skimpy cotton garment. I fantasized that she had been wearing these panties while she masturbated and the dampness was her female juice captured by the fabric. I licked the crotch of her panties and it tasted salty. I buried my nose in the panties again, savoring the aroma. This smelled nothing like Gretchen. This was truly an elixir, a smell that would set any man's loins on fire. I returned the panties to the floor, careful to approximate the position of the panties so that my intrusion would go unnoticed. Over the next year, I probably entered Miss Sarah's bedroom a hundred times for the sole purpose of sniffing her panties. Yes, I know that the last sentence sums it up rather well: what a pathetic and extremely perverted thing to do. Well, and if that's what you think, you're right. I knew how sad and pathetic it was at the time I was doing it, but I couldn't stop. I was obsessed. I was possessed. My Nightmare, My Dream About a year after Gretchen and Sarah moved to Georgia, Gretchen and I got married. Even after we were married, I continued to crave the smell of Miss Sarah's panties and I continued to peruse her dirty laundry regularly for fragrant undies. It was like an addiction. I needed to smell her panties, I needed to know how it would smell to have my face near her heavenly slit. I did what was necessary to satisfy that need. Was this what a Southern gentleman would do? Absolutely not! Was I ashamed of myself every time I did it? Absolutely! Did the shame ever deter me from my obsession? Not once! I don't know if my frequent intrusions went unnoticed but nothing was ever said on the subject. * * * After living in the house for about a year, I noticed that the bathroom door had a sizeable crack at the bottom. It occurred to me that perhaps if I laid on the floor, I could look under the door and see into the bathroom. As soon as I was left alone in the house, I tried it but all I could see was the bathroom floor. Maybe a mirror would help me to see under the door and into the bathroom. I found a small mirror, closed the bathroom door, and rested the mirror at an angle on the floor at the bottom of the door. Voile! I could see the bottom 5 feet of the door at the opposite end of the bathroom. I was concerned that perhaps the mirror would be visible to anyone, like Miss Sarah, who was in the bathroom so I left the mirror propped up in place and entered the bathroom via the other door. When I looked at where I knew the mirror to be, it was not visible. I immediately knew what would happen next. Gretchen was frequently gone in the afternoons and early evenings and this was when Miss Sarah would usually take a shower. The next time we were alone, Miss Sarah announced that she was going to take a shower and I very nonchalantly said, "Okay, honey." If I tried to use the mirror to watch her as she undressed in the bathroom, I faced the possibility that she might realize she had forgotten something in her bedroom and would then open the bathroom door to find me kneeling there with a mirror in hand. Obviously, that would be disastrous and I had to be more careful than that. I grabbed the mirror but waited for her to begin and then finish her shower. I would take my look as she was exiting the bathtub. I am sure that she stayed in the shower at least 30 minutes that night, as if she knew I was waiting and wanted to torture me with the agony of waiting almost forever for what I hoped would be a wonderful sight. Finally, I heard her turn off the water and I knelt at the door with mirror positioned. I was soon rewarded. She exited the bathtub and stood facing the door, drying her hair. I could very clearly see her pussy and boobs. I had already seen her boobs but the view of her pussy was a new sight. She had shaved her pubic hair and her pussy looked like it belonged on a little girl. It was so very cute! Contrary to my assumptions, she did not have protruding labia like her mother. No, she had a very simple slit between two very full outer lips. I certainly wanted to fling that door open and run to her so that I could bury my tongue in her pussy but, of course, I did not do that. She stopped drying her hair and started walking towards the door. I moved as quickly as I have ever moved in my life, returning to the kitchen within 2 seconds and putting the mirror back where I had found it. Miss Sarah stayed in the bathroom for another 5 minutes. When she walked out, she had the towel wrapped around her body so that it covered her boobs and it hung just low enough to cover her pussy and ass as she walked the few steps to her bedroom. Maybe she didn't realize how her behavior was teasing me but my balls ached for release. I probably used the mirror-at-the-bathroom-door trick another 15 to 20 times over the next year and masturbated afterwards at least 15 of those times. * * * Gretchen went to Ohio to visit friends for several weeks during the particularly hot summer after Miss Sarah had finally graduated from high school, leaving her and me together without adequate adult supervision. The first Saturday that Gretchen was gone, I told Miss Sarah that I was going out to the pool. I asked if she would join me to give me some pointers on swimming, since she is an excellent swimmer and I am, at best, an excellent sinker. She agreed and went to her room to change into her bikini. I always thought that the girl looked particularly hot in a bikini and my dick certainly agreed. I was already in the water when she came out to the pool. I had an instant erection, of course. She got in the water and said, "Okay. Let's work on you floating." With that, she got in the water and she looked even sexier when she was wet. Mr. Boing went from 9.9 steel to 10.0 case-hardened steel. Miss Sarah walked over to me, placed one hand behind my back and the other behind my knees, sweeping me up so that I had no choice but to float. It was quite obvious that I had a tent pole in my swim suit and I saw her carefully checking it out but she didn't say a word and, eventually, it subsided. When we were finished, I went inside to change. Gretchen and I almost never closed our bedroom door when we were changing. Miss Sarah was the only other person in the house and she never came into our bedroom without knocking or announcing that she needed to enter the room. So, by habit, I didn't close the bedroom door. I removed all of my clothes, dried myself, and pulled on my whitey-tighties. "Ron, can we . . .," said a familiar female voice that was much closer than I expected it to be. I looked up and Miss Sarah was standing just a few feet away, watching, her mouth left slightly open as she paused mid-sentence. She was still in her wet bikini, looking like the ultimate queen of all desirable teenage virgins. I don't know how long she had been standing there but the thought of her seeing me naked got me instantly hard again and, this time, she was not discreet in observing my state of arousal. ". . . go out for dinner tonight?" She got a smile on her face. "That is, if you can get your pants on." With that comment, she turned and walked out of the room. As soon as I got dressed, I went to find her so I could ask about how long she had been looking at me. I didn't know if she would mention this to her mother and thought that it would be better if I addressed this with her first rather than simply waiting to see what, if anything, might happen. Her bedroom door was open and the light was on so I assumed she was in her bedroom. I stopped in the doorway and saw her standing at her closet, looking through her wardrobe. She had removed her bikini top but was still wearing her bikini bottoms. "Dear . . .," I began. She turned and faced me, making no effort to cover her tits. The sight of those nipples had me hard again and I didn't need to look to know that my pants were tenting once again. Damn this was frustrating! She waited a moment for me to finish my sentence but I didn't. I couldn't. She said "I'm not sure but I think I'm going to wear my green shorts today. Do you think I should wear my dark green panties or my light green thong?" That question just made matters worse for me. "I'm color-blind, so I don't care if you wear any panties at all," I said, realizing as soon as the words left my lips that this sentence made no sense whatsoever. I turned and left her room, finding my way back to my bathroom so I could relieve my problem. As soon as I got to my bedroom, I removed my pants and undies. Again, I didn't bother to close the bedroom door or the door into the master bathroom. At this point, I didn't care whether she came in and watched. I just started stroking my rod and it didn't take long before I was shooting out strings of cum, my eyes closed, lost in fantasies about my mouth and her tits. * * * Over the next few weeks, while her mother was still in Ohio, Miss Sarah began walking around the house in just her panties and bra. Sometimes, she would wear just her panties and a short silk robe that she left untied. It hung over her boobs so that her nipples weren't exposed unless she bent over, turned around quickly, or sat down so that the robe gaped open. Her panties were usually very form fitting and, now that she apparently shaved her pubic hair, the crotch of her panties followed the contours of that delightful pussy so that she had an obvious camel toe. I figured that what was good for the goose would be good for the gander. I began to change out of all my clothes except my undies fairly early in the evening and put on a robe that I, too, left untied. I walked into the family room and sat down to watch TV. I reclined on my side and positioned my legs so that they were in a "frog" position, feet touching, knees apart with legs at an angle to each other. My crotch would be very clearly exposed if Miss Sarah sat down next to me. Within a few minutes, she walked into the family room and asked what I was watching. I have no idea what I was watching but she pretended to be interested and sat down at the opposite end of the couch. By taking this position, it almost looked innocent and natural that she would sit down facing me rather than the TV. Initially, she turned her head so that she was, indeed, watching what was on the TV. I was watching her through my peripheral vision and I soon noticed her checking me out yet again. My awareness of her looking at my undies caused my dick to start twitching. As soon as she saw some movement in my underwear, her gaze became even more intent and her eyes widened slightly. Excellent, I thought. She's turned on by this, too. Less than a minute later, Miss Sarah said that she was going to bed and she got up and walked to her room. I heard the bedroom door shut and I immediately thought that was peculiar because she always slept with her door open. I could also see light coming under the door from within her bedroom so I knew she wasn't in bed. The sound on the TV was turned down so the house was very quiet. As I stood at her bedroom door, I listened and heard a humming noise. About 30 seconds later, I heard her beginning to moan. She was in her bedroom using a vibrator to masturbate! I was immediately filled with such an intense sexual rush. My little Miss Sarah was in her bedroom masturbating. She was using a vibrator and I didn't even know that she owned one. She was masturbating immediately after watching my dick twitch. While masturbating, she was probably fantasizing about my dick. She wanted my dick. I knew then that I wanted to fuck her. I didn't care that it was wrong. I didn't care what would happen to me afterwards. I just wanted to shoot my cum into that shaved little pussy. * * * My marriage with Gretchen had fallen apart. We were like two strangers living in the same house. I spent my nights on the sofa. Sex was something that I now did only with my hand; sex with my wife had not occurred in months. Gretchen was like a 14 year-old kid who wanted freedoms without responsibilities. She didn't contribute any money to the household expenses, she rarely cooked, and she was an awful housekeeper. If she had fucked like a horny 14 year-old girl, I probably would have tolerated the rest of her crap for a very long time. But, when we did have sex, it was more of that formula sex with a somewhat smelly pussy and a lousy attitude. I knew it was only a matter of time before we would file for a divorce. In the meanwhile, Miss Sarah had started to withdraw from me. I suppose that she sensed the impending breakup of the marriage and she had the good sense to know that she really had no choice about with whom she would cast her lot. It was never a question in my mind. I knew that a divorce meant that I would also lose my precious, sweet Miss Sarah, the wonderful young girl who also happened to be the object of my unrelenting passion and lust. To avoid the trauma of a sudden loss of my time and affections, she had initiated a gradual withdrawal from my life; it was not hostile, but it was very deliberate, and it hurt. It hurt more than the failure of my marriage. Since the environment at home was so unpleasant, I spent much time away, primarily working at the warehouse where I had many of my possessions already in storage. It was a mini-warehouse site where tenants were allowed to work in their units. I was there one afternoon when I received a call from Miss Sarah at about 6:00 pm. "Hey, whatcha doin'?" she asked when I answered the phone. Her voice was overly friendly, and I knew she wanted something. "Just working at the warehouse, dear. What do you want?" I asked. "I was just wondering when you were going to be home. Mom's not here." "Why do you want to know, sweetie? Are you running around the house naked?" I always asked this question when she was at home alone and called to ask us for our E.T.A. In truth, I honestly did think that she enjoyed lounging at home in the nude when we weren't there and I didn't care. It wouldn't have bothered me, at least not in a bad way, if she ran around naked when I was there, but I'm certain that her mother would not have allowed that. "Yes, I'm naked right now," she replied in a very matter of fact voice that conveyed either the simple and direct truth or a conveniently deceptive response to my question. "Well, I'll be home around 7:00, sweetie, but maybe a little earlier and maybe a little later. I'm not sure," I answered, "but, you know, you can run around naked as long as you want if your mother isn't home." The fact that Miss Sarah had recently celebrated her 18th birthday had me feeling a bit more boldly about flirting with her, and she always seem to enjoy conversations filled with sexual innuendo and double entendres. "Well, uh, we'll see about that. Uh, thanks, Ron. See you later." She hung up. Thoughts of Miss Sarah walking around naked in my house had me somewhat aroused for the next hour. I was tempted to go home early just so I could walk in and "accidentally" catch her in her birthday suit but I kept my word. I arrived home promptly at 7:00 pm. As I pulled up to the house, I noticed a car parked on the street. It was not directly in front of my house but it was closer to my house than to any other house, so I assumed this was someone visiting Miss Sarah pretending to be discreet with their parking. I pulled into the driveway and got out of my car. Miss Sarah's bedroom was close enough to the driveway so that she could hear loud noises in the driveway, so I very quietly closed my car door. I was also very quiet when I unlocked the front door. In our house, it was customary for family members returning home to call out "I'm home!" so that anyone already at home would not be caught by surprise. Upon entering, I said "I'm home" just loud enough so that I could say that I had done so but, hopefully, quietly enough that it had not actually been heard. However, her bedroom was close to the front door, so I assumed that she probably had heard me. After entering the front door, I could take 5 or 6 steps and, turning to the right, look down the hallway and into my sweetie's bedroom. As I did so, I had the briefest glimpse of flesh. I had not noticed a face, had not seen boobs, or anything else other than a naked butt. Ordinarily, I would have called out to alert Miss Sarah that I was home and I would expect that she would spring to action and quickly close her door. However, I was feeling rebellious and I didn't want to do what I knew was expected of me. I also felt extremely horny and I wanted to see this little girl naked. I quietly walked down the hallway and stopped when I reached her doorway. I looked into her room and saw that Miss Sarah was, indeed, naked. But I also saw that she had a boy in her room, and he, of course, was also naked. My most immediate thought was that I wanted to kick this boy out of the house and then jump on Miss Sarah and fuck her senseless. My next thought was that it was 7:00 pm, I was home just as I had said and just as she should have expected, so perhaps she had planned this to happen and she wanted me to catch her. My mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. The boy was laying across her bed so that his head was on the near side of the bed and his feet were dangling over the far side of the bed. He was laying on his back. Miss Sarah was on top of him in a 69 position. Her head was bobbing up and down on his dick and, between her slurping noises and his moans, I could tell that he was enjoying himself. He also had his tongue alternating between the exploring the depths of her pussy and stimulating her clit. Of course, her ass cheeks were spread and he was looking directly at her puckered anal orifice. So was I. From where I was standing, I could see her asshole as well as her pussy. I had seen her tits on several occasions. I had seen her shaved pussy at least 10 times. But I had never before seen her asshole. I immediately wanted to have my dick in her ass. My pants became tight as my member came to full and immediate attention. I stood watching this sight for about 10 seconds when the boy glanced towards the doorway and saw me. He had an immediate look of surprise on his face but I held my finger up to my lips to signal him, 'be quiet and don't let on that you see me.' With that, I'm sure the feelings in his crotch took control and told him to simply keep going for it. He resumed staring at Miss Sarah's ass and began eating her pussy with even more intensity. The moans coming from my sweetie told me that she was very definitely aroused and would probably soon have an orgasm. This was more than I could possibly stand. My dick felt like it would burst if it did not have some relief. The sight of my beautiful step-daughter's pussy and ass filled me with an intense need for sexual relief. To hell with being a good and dutiful step-father. I was going to get some of that stuff. I quickly and silently kicked off my shoes and pulled down my pants and underwear. I approached Miss Sarah from behind and she was still unaware of my presence. I considered sticking my dick in her ass but I realized that probably would not happen without some lubrication and I didn't see anything close at hand that would serve that purpose. However, her pussy was already as wet as a pussy ever gets and I knew I could slide in without a hitch. I stood in position and the boy knew what I was going to do but he was about to blow his load. It looked like Miss Sarah was going to let him finish in her mouth, so he had no intentions of abandoning his post or doing anything that would interrupt his blow job. Again, I held my finger up to my lips to signal him to be quiet about my presence. I then bent down and placed my right index and middle fingers at the entrance to Miss Sarah's love canal. I plunged my fingers into her wet snatch and her moans immediately increased in intensity. Apparently, she thought that it was the boy digitally ministering to her snatch, because she still gave no indication that she was aware of my presence. With my fingers buried deep in her pussy, I began to flex my middle finger in a "come here" motion, but I was stimulating the front wall of her vagina. This stimulates the G-spot and I have never had this fail to drive a woman into a frenzied, 110 mph, mind-blowing orgasm. Apparently, Miss Sarah had never been stimulated in this manner because she removed the boy's dick from her mouth long enough to desperately beg, "Oh, god, Bobby, don't stop." She immediately returned to sucking dick and it sounded like Junior was getting ready to release his load. "I'm cumming!" he exclaimed before he started grunting and breathing heavily. The sounds of his orgasm, combined with the sucking of her clit and the excitement of her G-spot, set Miss Sarah over the edge. She stared screaming, "Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck!" I could see a pulsating motion in her pussy and asshole that told me she was in the throes of a powerful orgasm and I knew that this was the time for me to jump in. My Nightmare, My Dream I quickly removed my fingers from her wet cunt, stood erect, and aligned my dick with her hot honey hole. I plunged into her pussy and, in the midst of her extremely wet orgasm, had no problem in penetrating until I felt my crotch bottom out against her ass. As soon as my dick entered her pussy, she turned and looked over her shoulder. When she recognized my face, she looked momentarily surprised and I responded by saying, "You're so fucking hot!" As soon as those words left my lips, her look of surprise turned into a smile and she said, "Oh, god, I want you. Cum in me!" If her first orgasm had ended, she had immediately started a second orgasm, because she was moaning, groaning, and thrusting her ass back to meet me and to increase the force of my penetration of her feminine crevasse. It only took about three or four of these thrusts before I was ready to lose my load. "I'm gonna cum in you," I warned her. Junior slid out from underneath her, I guess because he didn't want to have my man juice leaking down onto his face. I saw him pulling his clothes on as I thrust deeper and harder into Miss Sarah's tender sweet pussy. He soon disappeared, much to my delight. I guess this was all a bit too weird for him and I understood that, for sure. Miss Sarah was panting like a dog in the middle of a summer day and I knew she was close to another climax. I felt the first burst of my seed pulse through my dick and into her awaiting cunt. As soon as she felt my hot cum squirting into her pussy, she started having yet another orgasm. "Oh, damnit! Ron! Fuck, fuck, fuck!" she exclaimed. The pressure in my dick was so intense it hurt but I couldn't stop. I continued to pound into that young pussy and empty my seed into her cunt. I reached underneath her with both hands and grabbed her nipples. As soon as I did so, her orgasm escalated and she started bucking like a horse. After three or four final spurts, my dick was spent and her motion soon caused me to slip out of her pussy. She stretched her arms out and collapsed onto the bed, coming to rest laying on her stomach. My body followed hers down to the bed. I didn't lose my grip on her nipples and I could still feel waves of muscular contractions rippling through her body. When my body came to rest on hers, my dick was caught between the cheeks of her ass. What a heavenly place for my dick to recuperate! We laid like that for a few minutes and I supported most of my weight on my arms so that having me on top of her would not be too uncomfortable. Her breathing slowly began to return to normal and she was uttering some primitive-sounding moans that indicated her pussy was quite satisfied with the treatment it had received. My dick was not in her ass crack very long before it started to stir back to life. The idea of my dick head being against her asshole was all it took to have my male member wanting more action. As my manliness started to get hard, I started very gently and slowly humping her ass, hoping that my dick just might actually penetrate her back door. I started moaning a little as my dick and I began to get a rhythm going on her ass. Miss Sarah was young but it didn't take her long to figure out what I was up to. "You know, I'm an anal virgin, so if you want to be the first one in my ass, you need to put some lotion on your dick" she said very matter-of-factly, as if it was a foregone conclusion that we were going to have anal sex. "Where is it?" I asked. "Top drawer of my nightstand," she told me, as calmly as if we were sitting at the breakfast table and I had asked her to pass the blueberry preserves. My dick did not want to say goodbye to Miss Sarah's asshole, even if it was only for a brief parting, but the need to retrieve some lotion gave me no choice. I jumped up, pulled the drawer open and saw that there was probably three cubic feet of "stuff" crammed into one cubic foot of space. I noticed that the contents of the drawer included one blue battery-powered vibrator, but it didn't interest me at the moment. "Damn," I mildly cursed, but as soon as I said the word, I spotted the lotion in the front corner of the drawer. I sat down on the bed next to Miss Sarah. "I'm gonna spread some of this stuff on my dick for a minute," I said. "Why don't you start getting yourself warmed up while I'm doing this?" "You think that I'm some kind of nasty slut that plays with herself!" she said with a voice that signaled only mock disgust. "Well, just because it's true doesn't mean . . .. Oh, what the fuck," she replied as if she had no energy to waste on banter. I saw her lift up her torso so that she could slide her right hand down to her crotch and then she began a combination of fingering herself and humping the bed. It didn't take long before my member was standing at full attention and I turned my gaze to the naked nymph laying beside me. The sight of Miss Sarah fingering her cunt, her juices flowing, and the aroma it created filled me with an insane carnal desire to ravage this little girl in the ass. "I love watching you play with yourself," I managed to say. I reached over with my left hand to push her left ass cheek away from her crack. Her petite and virgin rosebud came into view once again and I immediately wanted to fill it with my finger, my tongue, and my dick. Obviously I could not do all three at once. I held the bottle of lotion and squeezed an ample amount of lube into her crack just above her inviting auxiliary hole. Within a second or two, the lotion ran down her crack and into her asshole. Apparently, it felt somewhat cool to her because I saw her ass contract when the lotion touched the fringe of the pinkish-brown pucker. "It will warm up real quick," I assured her as I placed the tip of my index finger on her asshole and gently pushed into virgin territory. I pushed in so that my finger was buried only to the first knuckle. Then, instead of pushing in or pulling out, I started moving my finger in circles, as if I was trying to gently stretch her ass into a looser contraction. She continued to finger herself as I said, "I can't wait to get my dick in your ass!" She began moaning and I quickly pushed my finger in as deep as my second knuckle. I again moved my finger in circles and she continued to rub her clit. The room was filled with the aroma of her fragrant pussy juices. I began moving my finger in and out of her ass and my beautiful anal virgin began to explode with another orgasm. Her sphincter tried to clamp down on my finger and I could see her butt cheeks spasmodically quivering in unison with the rest of her torso-wracking orgasm. "No, don't move it," she asked, and I assumed that she was referring to my finger in her ass, so I stopped all finger fucking motions. I didn't know anything else to do so I leaned over and placed my tongue in her ass crack just above the puckered entrance. I slowly drug my tongue up her crack and into the small of her back, which I then filled with delicate kisses. Her moans were starting to slow down just a little so I decided that was my time to move. I stood up and reached over, putting my hands around her waist and dragging her backwards so that her waist was almost at the edge of her mattress. I then grabbed a pillow, doubled it over, and told her to lift up her waist for a minute. I put the pillow underneath her and then she laid back down. This caused her ass to point upward at a slight angle. I had removed my finger but her heavenly hershey hole was gaping open very slightly. I moved the dickhead against her ass and started pushing forward. I guess the number of orgasms she had already had made her receptive because I felt none of the resistance that I had expected. When I had penetrated her for 2 or 3 inches, she told me to stop for a moment and let her get used to it before I continued. I complied, of course, because I certainly didn't want to hurt my baby and I also wanted her to enjoy this, just in case I ever had another opportunity somewhere down the road. Finally, she gave me the all clear sign and I again pushed the rest of my dick into Miss Sarah's back door. Every inch of my dick was being squeezed as strongly as the base of my dick was being squeezed by her sphincter. Every inch of my dick was experiencing the tightest fit I had ever known. "Damn, it feels so full," she moaned. "Fuck my ass now!" she pleaded. I began thrusting in and out of that tight passage. "Play with your clit," I instructed her but I was so hot that I knew I would soon cum. "I'm going to cum in your ass!" I gasped as I felt my cum building up its pressure. "YOU'RE GOING TO DO WHAT?!?" I heard Gretchen's voice screaming from the doorway. I looked up to see her raising the cold blue-steel barrel of my .357 and pointing it in my direction. Everything in my life froze for a fraction of a second and my last thought was that I regretted not having already cum in Miss Sarah's ass. I watched as Gretchen pulled the trigger and it was as if I saw the bullet rocketing towards my head in slow motion. There was absolutely nothing I could do. Everything was beyond my control as I prepared to die. This, I knew, was the price I had to pay for finally consummating the desire for my Lolita. * * * "Honey, wake up, wake up!" my wife insisted with urgency in her voice. "You were having a nightmare." I quickly opened my eyes and realized that I was in my bed, it was sometime during the middle of the night, and I was not actually dead. What a relief. "Oh, god, it was awful, just absolutely awful. I was going to die!" I managed to say as I struggled to regain some sense of composure. "Do you wanna tell me about it?" "Uh, I was having sex and . . .." "Well, I already knew that. You were humping my ass in your sleep," she said as she reached between my legs and felt my still erect manhood. "But sex dreams usually don't turn into nightmares." "There was a gun," I explained. "There was a bullet coming straight at my head and I was going to die." "Who were you having sex with? Me, I hope." Her tone of voice let me know that if it wasn't her that I was fucking in my dreams, she didn't want to hear about it. "Of course it was you," I declared. "Actually, we were having anal sex. I know we've never done that, but it was a dream." "So, then, who was it that shot you? Nobody's supposed to get pissed off just because you have sex with your wife, even if it's anal sex!" "Honey, it was your mother. In my dream, I was married to your mother, and it was awful." "Oh, I'll bet it was." Miss Sarah loved her mother, but she also understood and accepted that there was much for others to dislike about her. "Well . . . I know how to make you feel better in a hurry. We'll take care of that hard problem between your legs. We haven't done it before, but would you like to demonstrate this, uh, anal sex you were having in your sleep?" my bride asked. Only Miss Sarah could talk about anal sex and sound innocent at the same time. "Why, Miss Sarah, you continue to surprise me!" I said with delight in my voice and a lusty look in my eyes. THE END