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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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Stepdaughter
by Anonymous (1995)
***
A guy marries a woman with a teenage daughter and lives
happily for a time. Then as his wife gains weight and
loses her sex drive the guy begins to cast his eyes on
his stepdaughter. (M/f-teen, ped)
***
My name is Terry and I'm thirty-three years old. Not
exactly in my prime anymore, but I lift weights for at
least an hour every day so I've got a pretty good body.
I'm told I look something like Jean-Claude what's-is-
face, the martial arts star, though I'm not quite as
muscular nor as handsome. Still, I'm in fine shape for
my age and I feel even better. I have more energy now
that when I was sixteen.
Three years ago I married a woman who had an 14-year-
old daughter by a previous marriage. One of the big
draws for the marriage was that the woman also worked
out in the gym (I love firm women) and that she was as
horny as I was. I mean, we fucked constantly, in just
about every place you could think of. Despite the fact
that we both worked and that she had a kid to take care
of, we managed to screw each other two or three times a
day nearly every day of the week. This was just about
as close to heaven as I could get.
A woman like this is a rarity, and after a year of
dating (and no slowing down in the sex department) I
decided to snap her up before someone else did. So
despite my reservations about marriage, fidelity, and
sleeping with just one woman for the rest of my life,
we tied the knot and proceeded to settle down together.
I should make it clear that I didn't get married just
for the sex, though that was a vital component. And not
just because my wife was beautiful. I've had beautiful,
horny women before and while I'd fuck them day and
night given the chance, I wouldn't dream of throwing
away my bachelorhood for them. My wife has other
qualities which I absolutely adore, but I won't bore
you with romantic drivel.
Unfortunately, one of those qualities isn't a sharp
wit. My wife isn't stupid, not by any stretch of the
imagination; she's just average when it comes to
overall brain power. Having an informed conversation
with someone who takes what Oprah says as gospel is a
bit difficult, and can at times be frustrating.
On the brighter side, my stepdaughter is very
intelligent and quite mature for her age. I quickly
discovered, even before I married my wife, that the
girl and I (her name is Rachel) had much in common and
so we became fast friends. We often did things together
that my wife wasn't interested in, such as seeing the
latest shlock horror films (the "Nightmare on Elm
Street" series was one of our favorites) or checking
out the new selections at the bookstore or messing
around with the most recent computer games. I wasn't
attracted to Rachel at this point, as she was only 11
when I married her mother and I'm no child molester.
At first, married life was quite good. Even better than
being a bachelor. For the first couple of years my wife
remained as horny and as buff as she'd been when we
were dating. No problems, no major spats, everything
was pretty grand.
Then it happened, and I'm beginning to think that this
is some sort of women's conspiracy, because it's
happened to all of my friends too. My wife stopped
going to the gym regularly, and then dropped her
membership altogether. Because she didn't work out
anymore, she quickly lost her finely toned figure and
even put about twenty extra pounds on her ass. And
though I loved her, I sure as hell didn't love the
cottage cheese and the ripples and the flab. But I
didn't say anything, hoping that she'd take a good look
in the mirror some day and decide it was time to get
back on track.
It gets worse, though. Soon after my wife went out and
bought a new wardrobe to accommodate her expanding
figure, her interest in sex began to wane. I mean, it
really waned. We went from two times a day to once or
twice a week so fast it made my head spin. Then to once
or twice a month. And this I did say something about,
only to have her tell me that now that we were
'comfortable' in our marriage we didn't need to have
sex so much. And that if I truly loved her I'd respect
her needs and desires, etc. etc., and stop complaining,
you aren't a teenager anymore so don't act like one.
So, just because I'm past the age of thirty I'm not
supposed to want to fuck anymore? What shit is this?
When I told a couple of buddies about this, they just
laughed and said 'welcome to the married life, pal.
Time to start screwing your secretary.' They thought
this especially funny, as my secretary is a man, not a
woman.
Months passed and the situation didn't get any better.
My wife stabilized at about 25 pounds overweight (no
tone at all) and sex once a month. I was dying the
entire time, horny as hell and wanting to fuck just
about everything that moved. I tried a number of what I
thought were subtle, romantic ways to rekindle the old
passion, to no avail. Again and again I was told to
'live with it'.
My wife began to fill her spare time after work with
mind-numbing sitcoms like 'Cheers' and 'Roseanne', as
well as the dutifully recorded Oprah and Jenny Jones
and whoever the hell else was on, which left me not
only horny but also more and more in the company of my
stepdaughter Rachel. Stepdaughter by marriage only; you
can't really be a father to a child when you miss the
first eleven years of her life.
Neither of us could stand to watch what passed for
entertainment on TV, so we went to movies or down to
the gym (Rachel had started working out with me by this
time) or loaded up a game on the computer to play.
Often we just sat around and talked. It was at this
point, when Rachel was fourteen and fast approaching
fifteen, that I realized that she was no longer a child
but one hell of a woman.
Funny that I didn't see it before, perhaps because she
changed so much in the course of a couple of years and
I was pretty satisfied with my marriage for most of
that time. Rachel had had gone from a skinny little
tomboy to a full-chested, slim-hipped, long-legged
beauty, both muscular and soft in a way that only the
young can really be. And her face, brown eyes and
shoulder-length brown hair (my favorite), was just as
fine as her figure.
This revelation first dawned on me one night when both
of us were in the hot tub talking. Sounds erotic, I
know, but it wasn't; we all used the hot tub on a
regular basis, and my wife and I hadn't fucked in it
for months so I didn't associate it with sex.
It was night and there were no lights out on the back
deck, but the glow from a couple of windows made it
possible to see somewhat. Rachel and I had been talking
about the boys at her junior high, and I started to
tease her about it. Things soon degenerated into a
splashing fight and during the scuffle she wrapped her
legs around my waist and tried to dunk me under the
water. She'd tried this before on occasion, and now as
then it didn't work. I outweighed her by about two to
one.
So now this incredibly sexy sixteen-year-old has her
legs wrapped around my waist, pressing her thighs and
crotch and absolutely flat stomach right into my body.
And failing to dunk me she tries to tickle me instead,
so I catch her hands and pull them above my head, which
pushes her taught young breasts right up against my
chest. And our faces are about six inches apart, we're
both hot and wet and breathing hard, and I discover
that this is no child pressed up against me but a
woman, I woman that I find extremely attractive.
No, let's be blunt. In that instant I knew I wanted to
fuck her. I wanted to rip that tiny two-piece thing off
her body and screw the foreplay, just ram it home then
and there. Fuck her like a wild dog in heat, nothing
but hot passion and lust. I wanted to hear her high-
pitched voice shriek in my ear when she came.
This all passed through my mind in the few seconds that
we were in this position, staring at each other, and
then I felt my cock starting to rise and my senses came
back to me. Before Rachel could feel the effect she was
having on me (my cock being right below her crotch) I
pushed her away and started the splash fight again to
cover up the awkward moment.
And my mind was racing. Jesus, what kind of pervert are
you? You want to fuck your stepdaughter, your vastly
under-aged stepdaughter? What the hell would she think
of you if she found out? Christ, are you some kind of
monster? A rapist or child molester?
This barrage went on all night, freshly stimulated each
time I thought about that moment that her body was
pressed up against me and the lust that boiled up so
fast and furious it was primal. This despite the fact
that I'm a psychologist and I know the most deeply-kept
family secret: that fathers and daughters quite often
want to screw each other stupid, and that they do it
much more often than anyone suspects. Hell, American
society would collapse if it ever became public
knowledge just how many daughters and fathers, or
brothers and sisters, are humping each other and loving
every minute of it.
It would sure as hell put an end to shows like Oprah
and Jenny Jones.
Days passed and it appeared that Rachel hadn't marked
the hot tub incident as anything special, for which I
was both relieved and disappointed. I resolved to try
to keep my hormones in check, though that was extremely
difficult given that she, like most teen girls, loved
to dress in tight-fighting clothing. Clothing which to
me was like a neon sign saying 'fuck me! fuck me! I'm
so young and hot I'll make your head explode!'
Several weeks later I was still struggling with my
cock, which gallantly tried to stiffen up every time I
saw Rachel. One night when she was out on a date, and
my wife was glued to the tube (as usual), I went into
my den and booted up the computer to add something to
the secret journal I'd been keeping. I was so confused
by lust that I couldn't remember where the hell I'd
hidden the thing last (I especially didn't want Rachel
to find it), so I pulled up the file manager and chose
the 'view hidden files' option to see if it'd pop up.
My hidden directory was indeed revealed, but so was
something else which I hadn't seen before, another
directory named 'rdi'. I jumped into the directory and
found a number of dated files with similar mystifying
names, and out of curiosity I opened the one with the
earliest date.
A few minutes of reading the text that scrolled out on
the screen shocked me with the discovery that I'd
found, entirely by accident, Rachel's diary. Apparently
she didn't trust to keep a normal paper diary for fear
that her mother might find it, and so knowing that mom
never used the computer she put it here. She also
thought it well enough hidden to elude me, since the
directory wouldn't show up unless I accidentally un-hid
the thing, and then I had to notice it was there and
that it wasn't one of the many games we had loaded up.
Seems that fate conspired against her on this one.
I pondered the issues of trust and privacy for all of,
oh, about five seconds, and then eagerly started to
read the diary.
That first night, and on many nights thereafter (it was
truly a long piece of work, and Rachel added to it two
or three times a week), I found out some stuff that
probably would've given her mother a heart attack. For
example, Rachel had started the journal just after her
twelfth birthday, and she immediately spent many pages
discussing in detail her fantasies, lusts, and desires.
She also described - vividly, I might add - how often
she masturbated, and to what, and her fondness for the
massage shower head.
I thought Rachel a virgin, as did her mother, so I was
stunned to learn that she first got fucked just before
her fourteenth birthday by a 17-year-old boy that
attended one of the local high schools. Though she
thought the whole thing rather unsatisfying in
comparison to the massage shower head, she resolved to
experiment regularly thereafter. And she did, with more
boys than I would've thought possible. She went into
excruciating detail on these experiences and I lapped
it all up eagerly, vicariously enjoying her sex life in
lieu of screwing her myself.
This isn't to say that Rachel spent the entire journal
talking about sex. In fact, most of it had nothing to
do with sex. But for me those were the most interesting
parts.
About two weeks later I was getting to the point where
I was about a month behind the hot tub incident when I
stumbled upon the most interesting fantasy yet.
Interesting, because it involved me. Rachel went on
about how she'd been lusting after me for awhile but
had been ignoring it, and about how powerful her orgasm
had been when she masturbated while thinking about
fucking me.
This new fantasy quickly became her favorite,
guaranteed to get her off in a big way. She was quite
open in her journal about the fact that the incest
element was an especially big turn-on for her,
something that made her hotter than anything else she'd
thought up. And she wasn't remorseful or guilty in the
slightest, which for some reason made my dick so hard I
thought I'd burst then and there.
Excited beyond reason I kept reading late into the
night until I came to the hot tub incident, the one I
thought Rachel hadn't even noticed. But she had, at
least on her end. She told of how horny it'd made her
to wrap her legs around me, thinking that my cock was
only inches from her pussy, to feel the muscles in my
chest and arms, the thrill when I caught her hands and
pulled her up against me. She said that at that moment
all she wanted to do was to fuck me, that the desire
was so strong she almost begged me to screw her right
there in the hot tub. But she had stopped herself, not
knowing what I'd do or think.
Several entries later I learned that she had since then
been trying to attract my interest in subtle ways,
brushing up against me or wearing tight clothes. Just
enough to catch my attention without being brazen. And
I hadn't noticed.
But I had. I'd noticed and thought the whole thing was
my fevered imagination, wish-fulfillment of the worst
sort.
I couldn't believe it. For several months I'd been
going through the torture of frustration over my
stepdaughter, not knowing that she was doing the exact
same thing over me. Some psychologist I was. I couldn't
even tell when a teenager wanted to ride my pony.
Still, this didn't give me the courage to try anything.
What if we fucked and she thought it was a mistake?
What if my wife found out? What if she told a friend
and it somehow made its way to the cops? God knows, I
wanted to fuck her like there was no tomorrow, but the
fears and doubts managed to keep my dick in check. At
least, they did until that next Saturday.
On weekends we generally sleep in to different times.
Rachel almost always gets up around 8:00, while I
generally haul myself out of bed about a half hour
after her. My wife used to do the same, but she now
doesn't wake up until at least 9:30 or 10:00. So this
Saturday, my wife was still in bed asleep when I got
up, put on some sweat shorts (I intended to work off
some sexual frustration in my home gym) and went to the
kitchen to brew up some coffee.
Rachel was already there, as she usually was on
Saturday mornings. An empty cereal bowl gave testimony
that she'd already eaten, and now she was reading the
newspaper which was spread out across one counter. As
was also usual before she took a shower, she was only
wearing one of those 'night t-shirt' things that
younger women like, the long shirts that barely cover
their ass, and of course panties. Not little-girl
panties, but those french-cut things which reveal far
more than they hide. Must've given the neighbors a
thrill when she went out on the walk to get the paper.
She was bent over the counter, elbows resting on the
paper, which hiked her shirt up over ass and onto her
back. Her legs were slightly spread, stretching the
panties taughtly over her ass and outlining her young,
incredibly tight pussy. When I walked into the kitchen
I stopped for a moment, for the sight was truly
incredible, almost posed, a 'take me now' stance that
got my blood pumping. I thought about how many boys had
enjoyed that pussy and how very, very much I wanted to
join their ranks.
Rachel heard me and glanced over her shoulder to smile
and say good morning, then went back to reading the
paper. Not changing her stance at all, completely
unaware of the effect it was having on me. Hormones
clouded my brain, driving out the objections I'd been
wrestling with for months; during that moment I thought
it better to fuck her and have it turn out to be a
mistake than to get old and grey and wonder for the
rest of my life what it might have been like. So
instead of heading over to the coffee machine to make a
pot, I walked over to where she was, intent on taking
her if it was at all possible.
Still, I wasn't crude about it. I didn't rip off her
panties and slam the meat between her legs. Instead, I
started to give her a back rub. Not exactly subtle, but
not so blatant that it couldn't be thought of as
innocent in intent if things didn't go well. I still
didn't know how far she was willing to go in reality,
despite my forbidden journeys into her diary.
"Mmmm, that feels good," she said, bending farther over
the counter. This of course forced her ass up even
higher, while at the same time requiring that I move in
so I could stretch to reach her shoulders. I was so
close that my groin was ever so barely touching her
ass, and it electrified me. My cock immediately
swelled, fast on its way to its full eight inches or
so.
Because I was massaging her back with some force, her
body was rocking back and forth slightly, which
resulting in her ass just slightly rubbing up against
my stiffening dick. This was enough to make it come to
full attention, and of course the head popped out of
the top of my sweat shorts. Eight stiff inches just
won't fit into a pair of shorts, even if they have
elastic in the waist.
So there I was, nearly draped over her while massaging
her shoulders, the head of my cock responding
vigorously to the feather friction of her silk panties
as they periodically came into contact with it. I was
so fucking horny I thought that if this kept up I was
going to come just like that, shooting sperm all over
her the back of her oversized t-shirt. And I was
thinking "shit, man, I'm almost inside of her, just
pull back her panties and slide it in, please, please,
please! You'll be fucking her before she (you) can
think twice about it!"
I almost did it. The temptation was enormous. But I
couldn't, even though her diary convinced me that she'd
welcome it. There was still some naggling doubt in my
mind someplace.
Instead, I started moving down her back, massaging
lower and lower, praying that she wouldn't turn around
and see the head of my dick staring back at her. When I
got to her lower back she arched up a bit, spreading
her legs even more and presenting her pussy in full
view. I drunk it in like a man dying of thirst, and
then I noticed that her panties looked like they were
damp. A sign from the gods if there ever was one.
* * *
"To hell with it", I thought. "It's now or never."
All of my inhibitions disappeared as my one hand went
to massage a silky thigh while the other crept around
to caress her incredible, hard abdomen. I heard her
breath catch in her throat, but she didn't open her
eyes or object or even look back at me. I watched the
blood rush to her face, felt her skin warm beneath my
hands.
As I slowly moved simultaneously for crotch and
breasts, I pressed my groin slightly against her ass
and was rewarded when she pressed back even harder. My
right hand found a breast and began to fondle with
unmitigated glee, while the left switched to the other
thigh, teasing her. She responded by starting to rub
her ass against my cock, up and down. I could hear her
breath getting sharper and faster and I was thinking
that there is nothing, absolutely nothing more glorious
than a horny teenage girl.
More than a little overeager, I abandoned the thigh and
moved straight in for the honey, slipping my fingers
past her panties and into her moist cunt lips. This
time she did gasp, a high-pitched moan quickly cut off,
and I started rubbing the lips of her pussy and her
clit. Her breathing became so loud it was almost a
moan, and I nearly groaned in response.
I was having a bit of trouble trying to fondle the
other breast in this position, so Rachel came up off
the counter and pressed herself into me standing up.
Her arms reached behind her and grabbed my neck,
pulling my head down to her lips and we kissed, hot and
passionate, her young tongue deep in my mouth, while
her ass started to pump even harder against my cock. I
slowly inserted a finger into her hole, making her moan
again, and I was thinking god she's so tight, how am I
going to get my cock into that fucking tightness?
The finger-fucking I was giving her was making her
shudder with pleasure, and since she was pressed up
against me I could feel every violent movement, every
intake of breath, every half-cut-off moan that escaped
her lips between kisses.
Briefly removing my hand from her breasts, so full and
firm, I deftly slipped out of my sweat shorts, kicking
them away when they hit the floor. This finally freed
my aching cock, and it sprung up and under her spread
legs, pressed hard against her cunt through her
panties. Rachel breathed "yes, yes", rubbing her
sopping pussy back and forth across the head and shaft
and making me moan in time with her.
The action was too much for me. Being so close to
fucking this teen-beauty I'd been fantasizing about for
months, my own stepdaughter, having her pressed up
against me and knowing that she wanted to screw me just
as bad as I wanted her, blew away any thought of
further foreplay or gentleness. I was consumed by a
lust of such power I'd never felt before, and I wanted
to screw her long and hard, I wanted to come inside of
her and make her come whether she wanted to or not. I
wanted to take her and drive her wild, exhaust her with
pure animal fucking.
But I couldn't do it standing up. No matter how it
looks in the movies, I knew I couldn't keep my knees
locked when the moment of truth came. I'd fall on my
ass once I shot my load.
So I turned Rachel around, kissing her while I pulled
her legs up and around the small of my back. She was so
light, and she knew right away what I wanted and jumped
up so I could grab her ass. Almost ripping each others
faces off with our lips and tongues, I carried her out
of the kitchen and through the dining room into the
living room, the closest place that had a carpet. I
knelt down, almost falling, and put her on the floor.
She unlocked her legs from my back and I pulled her
panties off, roughly, tossing them aside as I had my
own shorts. She quickly followed by pulling off her
shirt.
Seeing her muff exposed, I paused for a moment to
stare. She spread her legs back and grabbed my arms,
which I was using to balance myself against the floor
with, trying to get me on top of her. She almost whined
when I didn't move.
She was tight. So fucking tight. You can tell how tight
a woman is by looking at the shape of her hips and
crotch, and that determines at least half of how good
she is in bed. Even with Rachel's legs spread to either
side of her there was barely any room at all between
her thighs, and again I thought, how the hell am I
going to get myself inside of her? It wasn't the eight
inches that was the problem, that's not so much longer
than the average guy. But I was quite a bit thicker
than most men, and the woman in front of me was tighter
than any girl I'd ever been with. It looked like my
cock was much thicker than her pussy was wide.
Now you're probably thinking so what? Do her anyway!
But that's not how I'm built. The idea of forcing
myself into her, ripping her up with every stroke, was
not one I especially enjoyed. Hurting her was not in
the game plan.
I was on the verge of abandoning the whole thing,
despite the overpowering lust and Rachel's obvious
desire, when she wrapped her legs around my back and
pulled down - hard. I wasn't ready for it and I
collapsed on top of her. Before I could move she
shifted her hips and moved herself under me, putting
the head of my cock right between her cunt lips,
butting up against her hole. I could feel her lips
stretching around the top of my cock, she was so very
tight.
The shock of actually having my dick so close to being
inside of her made me freeze for an instant, all
thought driven out of my mind. Even this small contact
was amazingly exciting and I couldn't think, didn't
want to think, of not going ahead with it.
'Do it, please, I want you. I want you inside of me,"
Rachel breathed, pulling down my head to kiss me. Still
I didn't move, torn between not wanting to hurt her and
not caring, so again she took matters into her own
hands. With her legs around my back, holding me in
place, she pushed herself onto my cock, forcefully, and
the head slipped in to her hole. She groaned loudly,
and so did I.
It was too late to stop. No chance now. She pushed
against me again, and this time I responded, feeling
another inch slip into her, and we were both panting
and moaning and holding onto each other so tightly that
nearly every square inch of our bodies were pressed
hard into each other.
The pleasure was incredible, indescribable. Never have
I felt anything so good in my entire life. No fuck has
ever come close to this one. With each thrust another
inch went in, and because she was so tight my cock was
completely enveloped by her hot, silky cunt. She was
grunting with each stroke, panting 'yes, yes' between
the animal noises of pleasure being ripped from her
throat. Her soft, passionate cries, the high voice of a
girl not yet entirely deepened to that of a woman, only
made me crazier, and I thrust again and again until I
was at last all the way inside of her.
With no thought anymore of holding back, I started to
fuck her slowly, pulling out about half way before
thrusting myself all the way back in. Rachel's entire
body was rigid, glued to my own, and she was fucking me
back, pumping her hips in time with me. Her face was
red with lust, her eyes squeezed shut, her mouth held
open by the need to cry out her passion.
I could feel her taught thighs clenched tightly against
my hips, her ankles crossing at the small of my back,
her fingers digging hard into my shoulders, the
shudders of pleasure rippling through the tense muscles
of her abdomen. My dick was crying out with the need to
come, but I held back, wanting this moment to go on and
on and on, wanting to fuck her sweet young body
forever.
And so I fucked her and I fucked her, and soon we were
moving faster, and oh god the muscles of her cunt were
getting even tighter, and I could feel her pussy lips
stretching every time I pulled out partway. Her cries
were getting louder now, and I dimly realized that mine
were as well, and some vague portion of my brain was
trying to tell me that if we got any louder than that
my wife would hear it even halfway across the house in
a bedroom with a closed door. And I didn't give a shit.
I was fucking my teenage stepdaughter and I was loving
it more than anything else I'd ever done. Nothing in
the world could be better than this.
We were grunting and groaning and slamming against each
other pretty hard and I knew that soon I'd come whether
I wanted to or not, and soon she would as well, when
the living room window shuddered. We both
simultaneously came to a halt, our eyes shooting to the
window and then to each other.
For some odd reason, when the door to the master
bedroom is opened it makes the living room window
shudder. Even though it's several rooms away and none
of the closer windows are affected. So when the window
rattled we both knew that the door to the master
bedroom, where my wife was sleeping, had been opened.
That meant that my wife was up and had left the bedroom
and was even now walking down the first hall to the
junction of the second.
It was already too late to move. Even if we both got
untangled as fast as we could, Rachel wouldn't have
enough time to get her panties back on before her
mother came walking down the second hallway and into
the dining room, which was next to the living room and
had a full view of it. There wasn't any chance in hell
that I could get into the kitchen and pull my shorts
back on, much less get rid of the most rigid hard-on
I'd ever had in my life. I'd have to cross through the
dining room, putting me and my swinging dick in full
view of anyone walking down the second hall.
Rachel and I both knew this, and we both knew that we
were in deep shit. So we froze right there on the
living room floor, my dick buried to the hilt in her,
not knowing what to do. Any moment my wife would walk
in and see her husband caught in the act of screwing
her underage daughter which, seeing as how her daughter
was wrapped around her husband as closely as she could
get, was something the daughter was obviously enjoying
quite a bit.
We both stared at each other, holding our breath, not
moving as my wife's footsteps came down the hall. Since
we were laying on the floor one of the couches blocked
my wife from seeing us until she left the hall and
stepped into the dining room. So we had several seconds
of heart-stopping fear to experience before the gods
smiled upon us.
Instead of walking into the dining room and ending our
lives, my wife turned from the hallway into the
bathroom and closed the door. Which I should have
realized she'd do, since she had, more and more, become
a creature of habit. And with a sigh of relief I knew
what would come next. We weren't going to get caught.
Rachel immediately tried to move, a difficult thing
since I was effectively pinning her to the floor.
'Hurry, before she sees us!', she said, unlocking her
legs and pushing against my chest. I held on to her
firmly, pulled my cock halfway out, and thrust slowly
back into her.
'Oh god!' she moaned softly, trying to keep quiet. My
wife started peeing in the background. 'What are you
doing? Get off before she comes out!'
'Shhhh', I whispered, thrusting into her again.
Convulsively she groaned and her legs came back up
around my back. 'She'll take a shower after she's done.
Don't worry.'
'Terry, stop! - uhh!', she said, again trying to push
me off. Her body must've been giving her mixed signals,
because her legs were still around me and her hips
thrust down against my cock. 'Please - oh christ! -
stop!'
'Not a chance,' I whispered, grunting myself as I sank
my cock all the way in again. 'You don't want me to.' I
thrust again and she arched against me. 'Don't worry."
Despite the fact that she was fucking me back as hard
as I was fucking her, she was still trying to push me
away. So I took her hands and forced them down to the
floor over head and held them there. And I started to
fuck her faster, listening with rapture as her breath
speeded up again, tearing from her throat in half-cries
as she desperately tried to keep quiet.
My wife stopped peeing. The toilet flushed. We stopped
fucking again and I said 'listen.'
There was a moment when we couldn't hear anything over
the flushing toilet, then the noise of the shower being
turned on, water splashing noisily around the bathtub.
We heard the shower door opening, a pause, then it
closed again.
I looked into Rachel's eyes, letting her hands go.
'What did I tell you?'
She didn't say anything for a moment, just looked at me
breathing hard, then she smiled and replied 'You're a
lunatic, did you know that? We could've been caught.'
'Yeah, and that makes it all the more exciting,' I
said. 'Still want to stop?'
She grabbed my shoulders, pulling me down and kissing
me. 'Fuck me.'
So I did. Oh, god, I fucked her. With my wife in the
shower, knowing that she couldn't hear squat past the
water, Rachel became louder, her voice even higher
pitched than it was before. She thrust against me hard,
so hard it was almost painful, and I drove myself into
her with enough force to rock her hips back even though
I was pinning her to the floor. We moved faster and
faster, groping and moaning and pulling at each other,
Rachel so tight around my cock, so hot and wet that I
thought I'd die inside her teen pussy.
I could feel the tension mount in my balls as her cunt
started to contract, and she arched up, pushing me off
the floor, crying out as she came, crying out again and
again, her pussy spasming against me, and it was too
much, god too much, and I came with her, shooting my
cum deep inside of her. Each time I thrust her little
girl cries echoed in my ears, and I shot load after
load into that wonderful pussy, felt the violent
shudders of her orgasm tear through her body, her hips
bucking against mine, her hands tearing into my flesh..
I've never come so hard in my life, never so hard as I
did into my stepdaughter. And never have I loved it so
much, in part because she was young and my
stepdaughter. The incest, the forbidden fuck, made it
all the more explosive, all the more mind-blowing. The
incest and the fact that she way underage, and I was an
old man compared to her, and I had made her come good
and hard and she had wanted me to make her come. That
she loved the idea of her stepfather shooting off in
her, that she wanted to fuck her stepfather like a
bitch in heat and that she had, with her mother only
thirty feet away in the shower. God, I can't tell you
how exciting that was. There's absolutely nothing like
it in the world.
The orgasm seemed to go on forever and for a long
moment I think I half lost consciousness, my brain
unable to take such pleasure without shorting out. When
my vision returned I saw that Rachel was still coming,
still gasping as the orgasm rolled through her, so I
kept pumping her hard until she was done. She came for
a long time, much longer than I've seen any woman do it
before.
Finally, both of us breathing hard and still holding
onto each other for dear life, covered in sweat, we
stopped and looked at each other. The sight of her
flushed, sweaty face, the heat of her body, was almost
enough to get me started again, and I dimly realized
with some surprise that my dick, still all the way
inside of her, wasn't getting limp at all. Could I keep
fucking her without waiting to recover? It was an
exciting thought.
Rachel giggled and kissed me, long and slow, then said
'that was so good. God, it was so good. It's never been
like that before.'
I smiled at her and kissed her back. We spent a few
minutes lashing tongues, laying there on the floor, my
cock still rigid inside her pussy, and I was starting
to really believe that we could just keep on going.
Rachel's breathing was getting faster again, which of
course got my own heart rate up, but before I could
think about starting to fuck her the shower went off.
And this time we did jump up and put on our clothes as
fast as we could, but not before I grabbed Rachel,
frenching her hard and saying 'I can't wait to do that
again. You were incredible.'
She grinned before she ran off to her room to change
her clothes, and I trotted for the gym, a plausible
excuse for looking so sweaty and heated should my wife
come looking for me after she dried off. Which she did.
And all the time I was talking to my wife while she
toweled off her hair and I was doing bicep curls, I was
thinking about the best sex I'd ever experienced in my
life.
God, I really can't wait to fuck Rachel again.
END
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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 49