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Becky and Kristy
by Dark Things Come (dark_things_come@yahoo.com)

***

A short story about getting it on with future step 
daughter, turns into a novelle. (FFMf, ped, inc, 1st, 
bd, ws)

***

Becky and I walked hand-in-hand into her living room, 
flicking the lights on as we came in through the front 
door. We had both noticed Kent's car out front when we 
pulled up. Seeing no obvious lights coming from the 
house, Becky said her 16 year old daughter Kristy and 
17 year old boyfriend had better not be in Kristy's 
room. We both laughed at the idea. I thought I knew her 
daughter as well as she, and Kristy (often just Kris) 
was a smart girl, sometimes shy, and always said she 
knew better. Ha!

It should be noted, her mom and I were about an hour 
earlier than we said we would be. After dinner our 
plans were to catch a three-hour long Oliver Stone 
picture. Two-thirds the way through, the film broke. So 
much for opening night! So, with rain checks in hand, 
and dreading to sit through that movie again just to 
see the ending, Becky and I strode in. We figured that 
her daughter and Kent were watching the horror flick 
Becky had rented for the two that afternoon.

Somehow, even with the racket of opening the front 
door, the two didn't notice we were home until the 
lights came on. The image I saw in that moment will 
forever be in my head (at least I hope so). Kris was 
sitting on the couch, her body nude from the top up. 
She was actually leaning over, one hand supporting her, 
the other around the base of Kent's cock. Her mouth was 
wrapped around the rest of it. Kent was reclining on 
the couch, shirt open, his jeans halfway down his 
thighs. He had one hand draped off the couch, the other 
on the back of Kristy's head, controlling her pace.

I can remember Kris' strawberry blond hair cascading 
over one shoulder, her waif like body with the small 
buds of breasts, her eyes scrunched closed in 
concentration. Of course, the lights put an end to 
that, and began a scene of chaos. Kris scrambling away, 
covering her chest, grabbing her shirt. I noticed that 
her jeans were unbuttoned and unzipped, but fortunately 
for the girl, her mom didn't. Kent first started to do 
up his shirt, then realizes his own absurdity before 
hiking up his jeans.

Becky screams. Kris screamed. Becky cursed, Kris just 
hollered back. About the time Kent was next to me, 
shoes in hand, shirt flapping, other hand holding up 
his unbuckled jeans, Becky yelled for me to take the 
boy out back and shoot him.

That, by the way, was exactly my intention. First, I 
just wanted out of the shouting match. I knew that was 
for Becky and her daughter to work out. But secondly, I 
loved Kristy and wanted to protect her from all that I 
could, especially horny teenage boys. Her mom and I had 
been dating for three years, and in that time, the girl 
had become like my own. 

Becky had given birth to Kristy at a young age, been 
married to the father for eight years before their 
divorce. Becky never talked about her ex or what 
happened, but the way she sometimes questioned me led 
me to believe he had somehow destroyed her trust- 
whatever else he may have done.

From what Kristy had told me, her father tried to stay 
in her life for a couple of years, but he eventually 
faded away. The last Kris new, he had a new girlfriend 
several towns away. I could always hear the pain in her 
voice when she talked about him. I noticed a year ago 
she finally put up the two pictures she had in her room 
of them together. Every so often, I thought Kris turned 
to me as a father, and those times made my heart sore.

At any rate, I had Kent by the scruff of his neck and 
was intent on killing the boy. He didn't object when I 
hauled him toward the garage, but did try to slow us 
down by planting his feet. I gave him one good jerk and 
we were going again.

"Mr. Travis, I..."

"Shut up Kent. If you know what's good for you, you 
won't say another word."

"Yes sir," he dumbly replied.

Just outside the garage, a good five minute walk from 
the main house, I settled down. The walk had done much 
to cool my temper. I knew I couldn't shoot the boy- no 
good way to cover it up-, and then I thought about me 
at his age. I stopped, let go of the boy, and turned to 
look at him in the light of the three-quarter moon. I 
had to be impressed. Tall enough to be a basketball 
player but without the body for the rest of it (Kris 
had fallen for his "brains," which seemed sorely 
lacking tonight), he still had a hard-on you could see 
bulging under his jeans. 

Now, I don't know for sure, but I think most men would 
have deflated pretty quickly in the situation. Not 
Kent. And from what I could tell, he had the length to 
give most men a run for their money. I doubted if the 
poor boy would even make it home before pulling over 
and whacking off.

I placed a hand on his shoulder and looked him straight 
in the eye. "You almost did a real stupid thing 
tonight- a really big mistake, do you understand?" I 
said it in my heaviest, darkest, marine drill 
instructor I had.

Kent mutely nodded.

"Fortunately, we don't have to make mistakes to learn 
from them, or find out their consequences. Now, I'm 
going into that garage, and you're going to learn from 
your mistake when I come back. DO NOT MOVE."

Again, the silent nod.

I turned on my heel and marched purposefully toward the 
garage. I fiddled with the keys for a moment, glanced 
back at Kent with my most withering stare, and entered. 
I was pleased to see the boy shaking in his socks.

I came out a few minutes later (long enough for him to 
stew in fear), a collection of porn magazines in my 
arm. "I'm giving these to you. Carry one with you 
everywhere you go. Next time you feel like playing with 
a little girl, get one out. Home, movies, school. Do 
you understand?"

"Yes sir."

"Now, I'm not going to tell you to stay away from 
Kristy, because I know you and she will eventually do 
whatever you want. But, if I ever catch you around her 
myself again, or hear from one of her friends about 
you, I will hurt you. I believe in trying the carrot 
before the stick. These are your carrots, next time you 
get the stick." I handed him the stack of magazines, 
then finished by saying, "I pay Kristy's cell phone 
bill, I have the phone lines tapped, I get the mail, 
and I know all of Kristy's screen names and all her 
passwords. Your name and number ever come up, and you 
get the stick. Got that?" Yeah, I lied a little about 
all that, but not much. I jabbed a finger into his 
chest, surprised to find it mildly muscular. Well, I 
thought bemused, our shy little girl could really pick 
out men. "Now get."

Kent took off at a trot, and I followed slow and 
lazily. No use rushing back to the house, I thought. 
WWIII was probably still going on. If I smoked, I 
probably would have pulled out a cigarette.

I stood on the porch until well after Kent left and any 
cigarette would be gone. Inside, the house was still 
and dark, only a kitchen light burning to illuminate my 
way to the master bedroom.

Becky was already in bed, but not asleep. I could hear 
her sniffling in the darkness. I turned on the bathroom 
light to get ready for bed. Thirty minutes ago, Becky 
was grabbing my crotch in the car and reading dirty 
magazines to me as I drove home. Now... Now I was 
wishing I had brought in a magazine for myself. 

If the previous night had been WWIII, then another Cold 
War set in. Kristy was obviously grounded, and this 
being a four day weekend made time especially long. She 
could not use the phone, no IM or internet at all, and 
no going out. Not, Becky said, until she had decided 
Kristy's punishment.

None of this was a joy for any of us. Becky refused to 
leave the house in order to keep a close eye on Kris, 
and Kris only came out of her room to get something to 
eat. Her mom had forgot to ground her from her tv, so 
between cable and her books, she was only passively 
annoyed.

When Monday rolled around, Becky finally had to go into 
work. With Kris still off for some holiday or another, 
I had the job of policing her activities. I mildly 
protested that I didn't like being put in that 
position, but Becky retorted that if I ever wanted to 
be a father, I had to act like one. Becky knew I wanted 
to marry her, to adopt Kristy as my own, but she had 
yet to live down the misery of her first marriage. 
Still, she sometimes threw it back on me. Defeated, I 
agreed.

I locked myself in my den from 8 to 11, made a quick 
grand as a day trader, and called it quits. I grabbed a 
movie in the living room and slouched on the couch. 
Kristy came out of her bedroom around 11:30. 

"Want some lunch?," she asked. 

Kristy had her long hair tied up in a bun, her glasses 
on her cute button nose, a long t-shirt and a pair of 
baggy sweats.

"No thanks, Hon," figuring that was the end of it. But 
I was surprised when she flumped down next to me.

"Would you please get mom to cool off?"

"I wish I could, but this is something you and her need 
to work out together."

"Right, if she'll ever talk to me again."

"She will, but I know why she's angry. I'm angry too, 
you know. Your mom trusted you and I trusted you."

"Why?," she blurted out, standing up. "Because you 
never look at me. All you see is the cute little girl 
with glasses, the bookworm I've been since I was 10. 
Don't you see I'm growing?" She pulled her glasses off 
and tossed them on the couch beside me. Standing as 
straight as possible, she slid her arms down her sides, 
pulling her t-shirt tight against her small frame. Her 
breasts made small mounds under her shirt, her nipples 
visible, pressing firmly out.

"Yeah, you're growing physically, some," I said, 
expecting her to grow much more in the next few years. 
"But apparently not up here." I tapped my hand against 
my head. "What were you thinking?"

Anguish spread across her face and her eyes bubbled 
into tears. "I've always been behind other girls. I'm 
finally getting at guys looking at me. Do you know how 
good that makes me feel?" She was in full sobs now, 
heading toward hysteria. Yet I knew I was on the verge 
of making a point.

"But that doesn't mean you have to have sex with them."

A flood of tears next, lasting until long after I rose 
up and wrapped my arms around her. 

At last, she squawked, "But I want to."

Her words, those words, shook me, and I realized in 
that moment I wasn't holding that little girl I had 
come to first know. I was holding a young girl with 
desires of her own. "I hear you and mom come in, 
giggling almost every Friday and Saturday. I hear what 
goes on."

A brief streak of solid, cold fear shot through me as I 
wondered what had she heard in all those nights? It 
also meant Kris was deliberately listening to us, as 
her room was upstairs and the master bedroom was 
separated down a long hall from the living room. 

"It always sounds like you are having fun."

"Fun isn't the point," I said, thinking how stupid that 
statement was. "It has to do with being with someone 
you love- giving and receiving love."

"Not everyone out there doing it is in love," she 
countered. "If you and mom were so in love, why doesn't 
she marry you?"

That stung, and I think she could see it on my face. 
The second the words were out of her mouth, she began 
to apologize.

"Go to you room," I said, holding down my temper. And I 
regretted that right away, too. I guess it is true 
about saying stuff when you are angry. Though I had not 
said much, Kristy's face just crumbled, near tears in 
an instant. That was the Kristy I knew, the little girl 
that was crushed so easily. She turned and went back 
upstairs to her room. A minute later I felt like a real 
heel when I realized Kris had even forgotten lunch. 
Still, I was in too much turmoil- about Kristy's words, 
and about my relationship with her mom. I went out, 
taking a calming walk around our property.

Yeah, we weren't married, but Kristy and her mom had 
moved into my "country house" shortly after I met them. 
I was still living in the city, and it was another two 
years until I permanently moved in. Becky never paid 
rent or had a lease, but I didn't care. Early on, I 
wanted her and Kristy to have a nice, safe place to 
live on their own. By the time I moved in, I considered 
everything we had as "ours," even if it made Becky a 
bit uncomfortable. But I also had to assure her that if 
our relationship ever did go south, I would move back 
out.

Around four we decided to go make nice with Kristy. I 
knocked politely on the door.

"C'min," she called, allowing me to enter.

Kristy was sitting up in bed; it looked as if she were 
waking from a nap.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, sitting up and stretching. 

Taking a seat on the bed, I felt that same momentary 
thrill I always got when entering her bedroom. Though I 
tried at all times to think of Kristy as my daughter, I 
couldn't always. Her bedroom reminded me of her 
femininity. I realized only then the transformation it 
had gone through in the past year as she struggled to 
mature. Gone were the kitty cat posters, the teeny-bop 
photos of singers. In were nice pieces of furniture, 
framed copies of famous paintings, a make-up table, and 
"frilly" niceties that said: this is a woman's room, 
not a girls. 

"Me too. It's just hard to hear you talk that way. And 
you're right, not everyone does it for love, but they 
should. It should be about an emotional connection, 
reinforcing the bonds of a relationship. Your mom and I 
do love each other, you know that."

"I know," she said. "But what about marriages when 
women have sex even though they don't want to but do 
just because the man has to get his jollies?"

I groaned, mostly because I had been there before, even 
with Becky once or twice. "I'm not here to get into a 
polemic about sex and relationships; that really is 
your mom's job."

"Okay, fine. I'll talk to mom; now I got to pee." And 
with no further avail, she threw the covers off her and 
bounded out of bed- with nothing but very sexy red 
panties on. I tried not to let her see my jaw hit the 
floor or how I could not avert my gaze. Firstly, I was 
wrong about her breasts. More than just small buds, but 
with curves and slopes that jiggled when she bounced 
away. Her waist was so tiny I thought I could probably 
wrap my Hans around her middle. She had just enough of 
a bum to make a man drool. Finally, I averted my head 
and placed a pillow on my lap to cover my sudden 
erection.

Now, I wondered, did I stay or did I go. I had clearly 
brought our conversation to an end and suspected I 
should go, but I remained glued to my spot. From behind 
her bathroom door, I could hear her piss. When she 
finished, I heard her washing her hands. Stay, go?

The door opened and Kris stepped into the doorframe. A 
quizzical expression crossed her face but quickly 
turned. I could see the wheels of a devilish mind 
turning in her head, the way she fought to cover a sly 
smile. "Still here?," she asked casually, standing 
there in her near nakedness.

My throat was dry. I was a dammed deer caught in the 
headlights. She, apparently, was not ashamed of her 
nakedness.

Slowly she slid one hand down to her panties, running 
it along the length of her body directly to the center 
of her crotch. "I seemed to have leaked," she said, 
sliding her panties down and off each leg one at a 
time.

"Oh god," I groaned, my cock pulsing, impossibly hard 
and uncomfortable. If she had touched me at that 
moment, I would have cum a gallon in my shorts. Her 
whole body was bared to me, from her breasts I wanted 
to get into my mouth, to the V between her leg that 
only had a patch of hair just above. Her visible labia 
showed excitedly.

She used one toe to lift her panties from the floor and 
flicked them at me. They struck my shoulder and fell 
onto the pillow in my lap. Looking down, I could indeed 
see a small, wet stain. Without an ounce of modesty, 
she crossed the room, swaying her hips as best she 
could, to her dresser and opened the lower most drawer, 
bending down to give me a shot of both her ass and 
cunt. Garments flew out: cotton briefs, pjs, and 
sweats. At last she turned to me, holding a red teddy 
with see-through lace in one hand and a sexy tangerine 
bra and panties in the other. 

"Which one?," she wanted to know.

"Kristy," I asked with as much dignity and force I 
could muster, "are you a virgin?"

"Want to feel for yourself?," she shot back, a sudden 
bitterness in her voice.

I was a defeated man, I knew right then and there. I 
was jello in her hands, my mind turned to mush by my 
straining cock. "You're...not...acting...like...one," I 
managed.

Ignoring me, or to spite me, she dropped the teddy and 
walked to the bed. She flopped down behind me on her 
chest, then rolled onto her back, drawing her knees up 
and parting her legs. Her pink lips, slick with desire, 
parted for me.

My heart nearly stopped cold, my cock nearly ripping 
out of my slacks. I rose, letting the pillow fall from 
my hand, and backed a step away. "I can't," I croaked.

Kris rolled onto her hands and knees and came to the 
edge of the bed, facing me. "It looks like you can," 
referring to my oh-so obvious hard-on. Her small 
breasts hung down low enough from her body for her 
nipples to show, enticing. To get my hands on those, to 
suckle their entire whole into my mouth.

I bolted, for many reasons, the most important: she was 
a 16 year old girl I respected, though whose judgment I 
had begun to questions.

Sweat had broken out on my forehead and my heart was 
doing 90 to nothin' by the time I reached the first 
floor. I went immediately to the whisky bottle, 
swigging first one drink then the next. I started to 
pace, trying to ignore thoughts of the girl upstairs. I 
could do little else until Becky returned home, my mind 
and my body unable to focus on much else.

Fortunately Becky's arrival was short in coming. She 
had only stepped through the door when I met her, 
wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her 
against my still-raging cock.

"My," she said, leaning into me while dropping her 
purse and briefcase. "What's gotten into you?," she 
asked, allowing me to divest her of her jacket.

I smiled. "You have," I lied. I bent forward and kissed 
her, still holding her tight to me.

Her hands circled my sides, then one slipped between 
us, feeling my crotch.

I began working at the buttons on her blouse while she 
went to work on my jeans. We both moaned our excitement 
as tongues twisted and danced together. Her blouse had 
no sooner slipped from her shoulders then I had one 
hand was deftly unsnapping her bra and the other 
massaging the back of her neck.

Becky loosened my jeans and slid her hand under the 
waistband of my boxers, wrapping around my hard, warm, 
pulsing strength. "Oh my," she gasped as I struggled 
out of her reach. Kristy had pushed meson hard I was 
going to blow at the slightest touch. 

Pushing her bra back off her shoulders, I dropped to my 
knees in front of her- the perfect height to suckle her 
breasts.

Becky let her bra drop to the floor and raised her arms 
languidly over her head, pushing her breasts brazenly 
forward for my oral attention. 

I happily began to lick her nipples in long, slow 
strokes, first one and then the other. They hardened 
into stiff nubs under my tongue. After a good licking 
of her full breasts, I placed my mouth at her left 
breast and sucked it from tip to base into my mouth, 
drawing all the blood I could to her excited nipples. 
Becky placed her arms around my head, pressing me to 
her. 

"Oh yeah," she moaned, twisting her fingers through my 
hair. 

I changed breasts, sucking furiously, lapping my tongue 
over her nipples wildly. 

"I want to fuck you now," I said, rising up to kiss her 
lips, hands now fondling her breasts, thumbs tweaking 
her erect nipples. "Right here." I didn't want to take 
the long trip to the bedroom; I hadn't been this 
aroused since high school.

Becky tensed momentarily, though continuing to lean 
into caress. "What about Kristy?"

What about her, I thought. She'd driven me to this 
lust, this frenzy. And did it matter where we were? 
Didn't she sometimes listen anyway? Let her hear what 
her actions had wrought. "She's in her room," I 
replied, kissing Becky again, drawing her to the couch. 
She followed, ready to sink onto the soft sofa. I let 
her lie back and adjust the pillows while I quickly 
tossed my own clothes to a pile on the floor.

Becky lay there waiting, half-nude, looking relaxed and 
seductive as her honey brown hair fell to one side and 
her eyes flashed at me. She smiled when I was free of 
my clothes and my cock stood rigid before her. She 
undid her slacks and wriggled free, leaving nothing but 
a pair of tiny black silk panties covering her. She 
started to remove these too (in her unusual slow, 
tormenting way). 

I didn't give her the chance. Instead, I quickly 
lowered myself down onto Becky, biting at the side of 
her neck and pushing her panties to one side. My cock 
found her wet opening and I pushed in deep with one 
shove.

"Oww!," Becky yelped when I plunged in. Almost angry, 
she struggled to move away while I struggled to get her 
into a position to go in even further. I sank my teeth 
into her neck and sucked delicately, knowing I would be 
leaving quite a blemish, but which quickly ceased her 
struggles as she gave herself up to me.

I wanted Becky to come as soon as I did, but knew she 
would not. I fucked her furiously, trying to restrain 
the urging, churning in my balls. Becky must have 
noticed my anxiousness, begging me to fuck her, afraid 
she would miss her climax.

I turned my face upward as I lifted my upper body 
skyward to bring my cock further into Becky. That's 
when I saw Kristy standing just a few feet from us, a 
robe hanging open, exposing her body to me, a crooked, 
dangerous smile on her face.

"Ooohhh!," I cried, firing salvo after salvo into 
Becky, my body shaking in orgasm.

I collapsed down on Becky as she used her vaginal 
muscles to milk me dry.

"No fair," she whispered into my ear. "I didn't get to 
come," she complained. "Now I'm all horny." She 
wriggled her hips beneath me, taking my deflating cock 
with her side to side.

"Tonight," I promised, hoping that when we rose Kristy 
would not still be there watching. Thankfully, she 
wasn't. Becky and I snickered like two teens who just 
barely got caught as we picked up our clothes and 
absconded to the bedroom. If she only knew we were 
caught, I thought to myself.

"That was wonderful, thank you," I said while we 
redressed in the bedroom.

"What did get you so excited?" she asked.

"Well," I explained, "we hadn't since you and Kris had 
that blowout. And then I missed you at work today."

"Is that all?"

I lied once more. "Promise."

"I'm sorry. It has been a couple of days. Still, you 
owe me one, tonight."

"That I can do. Did you decide on Kris' punishment?" I 
knew Becky would not have forgotten that.

"Yes. She must sit down and have an honest, open 
discussion with me. If she can do that maturely, she's 
off the hook."

"Sounds fair. You know, she might have done that 
before," I said, referring to the fellatio. "But she is 
a good girl." What was this? I wondered. I had been 
lying right through my teeth since Becky had walked in 
the door.

"I'll get dinner started."

"No, I will. You should go have that talk with Kristy 
now."

Becky gave me a long, tongue-entwining, seductive kiss 
then smiled as she crossed her fingers and headed out 
the door. 

Some time later, as I listened long and hard for an 
eruption from upstairs, Becky came into the kitchen and 
started helping me chop vegetables for our dinner 
salad. She said nothing.

"Well?," I asked. 

Becky only smiled and continued cutting merrily.

"C'mon," I begged.

"Wanna know?," her voice as coy as could be.

"Yes, please," I pleaded.

"Well, we talked about a lot of things. Like the 
discussion you two had earlier..."

Oh shit, I thought What had Kris told her mom? "And?," 
I huffed cautiously.

"And what she did to you."

"Did to me?," I asked.

"You weren't just happy to see me," she accused.

"I, uh, well..."

Becky put down her cutting knife and came up to me. "I 
should probably be mad all that excitement wasn't for 
me. That some hot little tart had got you all hot and 
bothered. And I would be, if that little tart didn't 
live under the same roof!"

I couldn't believe Becky wasn't going through that very 
roof right now. How had she become so suddenly calm?

"I'll only be upset," she said, leaning in to whisper 
into my ear and placing one hand on my crotch, running 
her thumb over the tip, "if you don't get that excited 
by me tonight!"

I hugged her reassuringly.

"Can you break away for a few minutes, or will 
something burn?"

"Let me turn down the stove and I'll give you ten."

"Okay. Meet me in the bedroom." With that, Becky 
scampered out. 

I walked over to the oven and turned the heat down, 
then tossed the rest of the cut veggies into the salad 
bowl. Ten minutes might be pushing it; I didn't want my 
lasagna to burn.

In the bedroom, Becky was sitting in the middle of the 
bed with a box I had never seen before. "Kris told me 
all about today and everything she has been feeling. I 
wanted to kill her first, but then I realized how much 
she was like me. I was only 16 when she was born. I was 
curious, about boys, about girls too. at her age."

"Girls too?"

"Yes. Kristy met me in her bedroom in her robe. Only 
her robe! When I saw her figure, it brought back 
memories." Becky scrabbled through a box of photos, 
tossing many to the side as she searched toward the 
bottom. At last she pulled out a handful of Polaroid's 
and began leafing through them. As she looked at one, 
she then pitched it to me. What I saw was a collage of 
two young teens, completely naked, taking pictures of 
each other in some very creative close-ups. My cock 
stirred in my boxers. One of the girls was clearly 
Becky, but the other one I did not know.

"Who...?"

"Me, and my best friend Christine. I guess she was my 
first lover; it's who Krissy is named after. We were 
about fourteen when we took those photos. 

"She and I grew up together. We were inseparable from 
age 5. I guess we got sexually curious around twelve 
with each other, and with her brother too. Mostly then 
we just played, but one day her and her brother went 
home and he raped her."

"How old...?"

Becky's voice had grown quiet, distant. "He was a 
couple of years older. He sometimes got aggressive with 
us so Christine and I use to jack him off when we quit 
playing. One day it wasn't enough. Then he never came 
around anymore and Christy and I fell in love. That 
lasted a couple of years, until Kris' daddy came into 
my life. I was torn between my love for Christy and 
this boy who liked me and who I liked and wanted to be 
with. Then Christy's dad and brother were killed in a 
home burglary one night. 

Christy would have been killed too if she hadn't been 
in my bed that night. Her mom was thankfully out of 
town that weekend. Christy discovered the bodies, or so 
I heard. I never saw her after she went home that next 
day. She and her mom left town right afterward and I 
fell into Dan's arms over grief."

This was the first time I had heard this story, and it 
was the first time Becky had ever called Kris' dad by 
his name. "Wow," I said, otherwise speechless. Becky 
picked up a photo of Christine and held it to her chest 
while collapsing her head onto my lap.

"What else I didn't say was how like a father her dad 
was to me. You know I never had one. I think I fell for 
Christy in some sense because I wanted to be her, or in 
her family. If the evil in her brother wasn't so 
obvious, I might have married him. I could talk to 
Christy's father about anything. As it was, when Kris' 
father came into my life, I talked to Mr. Corey about 
how I felt, how nervous and excited I was, and, 
well..."

"Yes, well?" Her story had me on the edge of my seat, 
or the bed, as it were.

"Well, my first time was with a caring, loving, mature 
man. Not my daughter's dad."

"Whoa." I scanned the collection of photos by me. While 
Becky looked very little like her daughter, Kristy 
looked very much like Christy. Running a hand through 
her hair, I asked Becky what had brought all this up 
and why she shared it with me.

"Seeing how much my daughter looked like my first 
lover. I think if that had been 2005 instead of back 
then, maybe Christy and I would have remained lovers, 
if mom hadn't expected me to marry, have kids. I still 
sometimes find myself attracted to ladies around the 
office."

My cock twitched. "You do?"

"Sometimes... I want to be that free. And when I saw 
Kristy like that today, it really brought back my 
longing to be with a woman."

"That wouldn't be a permanent situation, would it?," I 
asked.

Becky stifled a laugh while rolling onto her stomach. 
She rested her face on one hand and dropped the other 
directly onto my lap. "No! I am too much interested in 
you at the moment," she answered playfully. 

"So, just a one night stand kinda thing?"

"Maybe a fling," she said, her hand slowly working its 
way over directly to my crotch. She undid the top of my 
jeans and slid her hand underneath my boxers and began 
to toy with my cock, holding it in her hand while using 
on finger to stroke along the length of the bottom. No 
longer "twitching," I abruptly grew erect in her hand.

"You know, Krissy told me everything, including how she 
seduced you in the nude and how you still didn't touch 
her. This afternoon wasn't all about me, was it?"

"No," I admitted.

Becky scooted closer to me, her head directly over my 
cock. "I'm very proud of you." And with that, she bent 
her head toward my cock and allowed a thin line of 
drool to fall from her mouth onto the head of my dick. 
She used it to pump my cock once or twice, then 
proceeded to give me one hell of a blow job. 

When I came, she took the first shot directly into her 
mouth, then pulled away and pumped the rest all over 
her face, her tongue out to catch whatever may land 
there. When I stopped coming, Becky used her tongue to 
lick away the cum around her neck then the small drops 
still rolling from my cock.

I leaned back, resting in the afterglow while Becky 
went to wash her face.

"Oh shit!," I yelled, suddenly remembering the lasagna 
in the oven. I did up my jeans and dashed into the 
kitchen.

Fortunately, Kristy had saved the day. Now dressed in a 
more appropriate outfit (sweats and a t with a bra 
even), she had pulled the lasagna from the oven just 
before it burned. "I smelled it upstairs," she said, by 
way of explanation.

After she and I had set the table, something we did in 
mostly silence, Becky came into the dining room. Much 
to the surprise of both of us, she glided into the 
living room wearing a black teddy covered only by a 
sheer, white robe. 

Becky is a stunning woman, I must say, even when laying 
about the house all day on a Saturday in just sweats 
and without make-up. She has honey-brown, shoulder 
length hair that curls lightly at the ends and frames a 
narrow face. Her green eyes shine brightly, and there 
are few colors that she can wear that don't highlight 
them. Though just 5'5, she has long legs, a thin waist 
with just enough hips to be womanly. Her breasts were a 
modest D cup, just slightly over-proportioned for her 
size. 

There's very little to not like in Becky. Looking at 
her now, in a very visible teddy that dipped low on her 
neck line and whose top revealed most of her full 
breasts, just ending above her nipples- well, there's 
no way to describe her beauty. The bottom of the teddy 
formed a respectable V, showing enough to just beg to 
show more, and which rose high on the sides to curve 
just above her hips, accentuating ever bit of her legs. 

While I could hardly keep my eyes and my mind off Becky 
long enough to eat, I did notice Kristy barely looked 
at her mom, focusing hard on her food or casting 
furtive glances at me. Becky, however, ate with a cat's 
grin on her face, looking from her daughter to me and 
back.

"Darling, that was such a good fuck you gave me when I 
got home. And thank you for letting me suck your cock 
too. Krissy, if it wasn't for you, supper would surely 
have burned. I think Dave forgot all about it while I 
was sucking his dick."

"Mom," Kristy groaned, and I could only imagine that 
Becky was trying to repay Kristy for her actions 
earlier. A twisted 'fight fire with fire.' I squirmed 
in my seat, thinking how badly I just wanted to get 
Becky alone again and out of that outfit, get my mouth 
on that pussy I knew had to be drooling by now. It was 
a tragedy that she had such nice lingered but rarely 
stayed in it for long!

"You know, dear," Becky said, turning to her daughter 
once more, "I still have to punish you for your 
behavior."

"You already did," Kristy hissed, staring at her face, 
her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment.

"No, I don't think so. I punished you for the other 
night, I know, but not for your behavior this 
afternoon. Your free the rest of the week- but you do 
have to stay away from Kent."

"I think I took care of that," I interjected.

"But I'm grounding you for the weekend."

"Mom!," Kristy whined.

"I'm sorry, and that's just the beginning of your 
punishment."

"What am I going to do, clean house like Cinderella all 
day?"

I could see Kristy, first flummoxed, getting angry.

"Something of that sort."

Kristy rose. "May I be dismissed? I'm done."

"Certainly, honey. Goodnight."

Becky's daughter turned dramatically on her heel and 
pranced out of the room.

"Was that bad?" 

I nodded. "I think you embarrassed the hell out of 
her."

"And you?"

"Before today, yes. But not now, not after her watching 
us and all. Hell, Becky, I couldn't keep my eyes off 
you long enough to care."

Becky rose, tugged on her teddy just enough to let her 
nipples rise above her outfit and poke out wantingly. 
"Really?" She rose and came over to me, motioning for 
me to turn my chair around. "Show me," Becky ordered, 
settling herself atop my cock, which had been growing 
harder and harder as we ate. 

I began by pulling her breasts fully out of her to, 
using my hands to toy the nipples to hardness. I then 
leaned forward and began sucking on her breasts while 
Becky groaned and rocked herself back and forth on my 
lap. 

I started to get up. "Let's get to the bedroom," I 
panted.

"No," Becky said, sliding to the floor and tugging me 
down with her. "Right here." She slid her teddy down 
her waist and pulled it off, tossing it aside. 

I was hurriedly disrobing when I worried about Kristy 
walking in on us. My cock throbbed, apparently not 
caring. If Becky was going to push this boundary, the 
rest of me would not care either. 

Finally out of my clothes, I turned my attention fully 
to Becky. I knew what I wanted, working my way down her 
body with light, fluttery kisses but barely pausing for 
each. My girlfriend squirmed under my lips, impatient 
as I to reach her wet, wanting pussy. I placed a kiss 
on her bellybutton, then slid my mouth down, kissed the 
hair atop her monds, and then slid my mouth against her 
vaginal lips. I ran my tongue gently against the 
outside of her pussy, tasting her desire that leaked 
from within.

 When I thought Becky had been fully charged and 
excited, my tongue delved deeper, parting her lips and 
moving slowly within. I stopped long enough to drum her 
clit by rolling my tongue off the top of my teeth. 
Becky mewed her pleasure. I returned to licking her, 
lightly probing at the entrance of her vagina, just a 
tickle at first, then gradually growing bolder, 
thrusting my tongue like a battering ram before finally 
thrusting in as deep as I could.

"Oh my oh yes," Becky purred as I alternately licked 
and sucked at her until she came in a shuddering 
orgasm.

"Hold me down and fuck me," she pleaded. 

I climbed atop Becky, grabbing her wrists and holding 
them just above her head with one hand. I scraped my 
cock back and forth across the entrance of her cunt and 
began to bite at the side of her neck. She shook her 
head, trying (but not much) to escape me. With my free 
hand I teased and groped her breasts before pinching 
and twisting each nipple until she cried out. Becky's 
breasts were especially sensitive, exciting her more 
than any woman I know. Finally thrusting into her with 
a single, sharp thrust, Becky came again with a scream 
from beneath me.

"That's it, fuck me! Oh god I love your cock in my 
cunt," she moaned while I fucked her with abandon.

There's something particularly controlling about coming 
before your partner is satisfied. Though Becky had had 
two orgasms, I know she was seeking a third. But I came 
first, letting her know she was sometimes nothing but 
my fuck toy. Had I not already cum twice that day, I 
surely would have fucked her to orgasm a second time. 
As it was, Becky lay beneath me panting and sweating, 
not quite satisfied, as my cock relaxed inside her and 
my cum dribbled out of her cunt.

I thanked her for such a great fuck while she gave me 
that look that clearly accepted her role, and together 
we got dressed and cleared the table, washed the dishes 
and went to bed.

To be continued?

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The author does not condone child abuse, this story is
meant as an erotic fantasy not real life. Anyone acting
out such scenarios in "real life" can look forward to
many unproductive years getting it up the butt by a 
fellow convict in their local prison.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 36