When the Cat's Away the Mice Will Play
"This shouldn't be happening," I say to
myself, but that sting of naughtiness is part of the allure, and I can't
ignore the electric rush that grips me as you step closer, your eyes fixed
on mine, your confident strides only slightly exaggerated by the drink
you've just set on the coffee table.
I've noticed all along how you stared at me, long before you married my mother, before I was even of legal age. I tried to convince myself I didn't appreciate the attention, even when I could feel your eyes burning into my backside; I knew you longed to put your hands on me instead, that you were undressing me with your eyes and imagining how my full, pink lips would feel wrapped around the head of your throbbing penis, my tongue savoring every luscious inch of that precious organ.
I forced myself to wait. Lusting after my stepfather might have been immoral, but I would at least make sure it wasn't illegal. Tonight is my eighteenth birthday, and my mother has been called away on urgent business. The remains of a typical family birthday party are strewn about the living room, with only you and I to tend to the mess. The drink you've just set down is starting to leave a ring on my mother's table, which just won't do, so I swivel around so that my back is to you, and I simply can't bend over to pick up the glass without my flirty pink skirt pulling up over my ass, revealing the damp white thong beneath it, nestled sweetly between my young ass cheeks. I pick up the glass and turn to face you; there appears to be no lasting damage to the table, but to be safe, I'd better lick the moisture off the glass. My tongue glides over the cool, smooth surface as my eyes gaze into yours.
"Daddy," I say poutingly, which I've never called you before, but it seems appropriate now. "Mommy isn't here to tuck me in to bed. I don't think I can go to sleep tonight without being properly... tucked."
The expression on your face is just what I hoped - a delicious mixture of astonishment and rapture, punctuated by an apparent bulge behind your zipper. "Well, then I supposed I'll have to do the - tucking," you stammer, picking me up like a child and carrying me to my room. It still looks like the place where a young girl sleeps, and I suspect that turns you on. There are pink and white sheets on my twin-size canopy bed, and while it doesn't afford much room to manoeuvre, it's adequate for deflowering your step-daughter.
"Would you please unbutton my dress, Daddy?" Your nimble and practiced fingers make quick work of the buttons that close the fabric over my chest, and you slowly push it back off my shoulders, letting it fall to the floor in a rumpled heap. "Oh no, I'm not supposed to leave clothes on the floor." I look up at you coyly. "I suppose you had better punish me," and I kneel before you.
"All right," you nod. "You know what the consequence is." I smile wickedly, ready to let the real fun begin. Eagerly, I grasp your belt buckle and unfasten your pants, letting them join my dress on the floor, admiring the first naked cock I've ever seen in person. It's longer and thicker than I expected, and already so hard. Unable to abstain myself, I lick your swollen head, getting my first taste of a man, and immediately I begin to suck your begging penis, letting my tongue dance along the taught veins and vessels, cradling your balls in my hands while my lips kiss the length of your shaft, leaving pink lipstick as evidence of my utter captivation. My mother's attention to you has been lacking, so your need is great, and I gladly oblige the necessity of the occasion.
I suck your dick
like a giant tootsie pop, until it's clear that it will take little
more for you to spew your load into me. Not sure I'm ready to swallow
during my first blowjob, I pull one last stroke from stem to stern, then
stuff your cock between my tanned breasts, still held together by a lacy
bra, and rub my tits against your groin, feeling the iron-hard rod ramming
up and down between them until finally you erupt, your thick white cum
cascading over my belly, down toward my thong, while you twitch and spasm
and struggle to keep your balance, clinging to the canopy.
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