Step-dad submits to his desires (Part 1)
When I first met Anna, I was immediately struck by how beautiful she was: long brunette hair, high cheekbones, green eyes that you could get lost in that always held my gaze, and a smile that blurred the line between innocence and a more mysterious, dirtier side. She was small in height but had large breasts for her size, small hips, and a toned stomach. I wasn’t just drawn to the superficial, though; I loved her confidence. She could charm a room, and she had an energy and aura about her that made people want to be around her. We started dating two years ago, after I met her through a colleague at work. When she told me she had a daughter from a teenage mistake at 16 years old, I was surprised at first, but it didn’t bother me. I had been in a long-term relationship before Anna, and when we met at this stage of our lives, there was always going to be “history” before us.
When I first saw her daughter, Michelle, I was taken aback by how similar she was to Anna. She had the same facial features, although she was more slender, had smaller breasts (but a better arse than Anna), and had the same air of confidence as her mother. It was like speaking to a younger version of Anna, although she had more innocence about her. She was naturally quite stand-offish with me at first; it had only been her and Anna since she was born, and although Anna had been in a relationship here and there with other men, no one had lasted long enough for it to become anything more than casual. So, when she first introduced me, there was a natural urge from Michelle to feel protective over her mother, so she was fairly blunt. However, over the course of six months of living with Anna and Michelle, she began to soften and even became somewhat playful with me. My issue was that I started to view her in a way that was crossing boundaries in my head.
I fantasised about her. Regularly.
It got worse when she started calling me “daddy” too. The word had been sexualized so much in recent years that part of me felt like she knew what she was doing, but the other part of my brain brushed it off as something that she would do because she had lacked a father figure.
On mornings where she would come downstairs in nothing but a t-shirt and panties, she would make a real point of reaching for things in kitchen cupboards that she wouldn’t usually reach for, knowing I was in full view of her. The shirt would rest on her perfect arse, revealing her little panties, which I just wanted to rip off her. It was so regular that it was forcing me into the bathroom before work, so I could make myself cum over the thought of taking her in the kitchen. ‘Does she know what she’s doing? Or is this just my twisted mind?’.
When I was at home once, on a particularly hot day in the summer, I went into her room to open a window and let some air in. She had left two vibrators on her bed: one large, black 8-inch vibrating dildo and a smaller, clit-focused vibrator. I was immediately hard, standing in my stepdaughter’s room, when I picked up the black one and sniffed it. The scent of her cunt drove me wild. ‘She must have used it this morning before heading out,’ I thought to myself as I stroked my cock in her room. There was always an element of shame after I came that hard to her, but it was a desire so intense that I couldn’t ignore it.
“It’s so sweet that she calls you daddy, really. You guys have gotten so close!” Anna would say this to me sometimes while we sat on the sofa and watched TV. I smiled and agreed with her, but that sordid part of my brain thought about Michelle on top of me. Her tiny frame sat with her legs wrapped around me and her arms around my neck so I could smell her fragrance on her neck and chest, cuddling into me innocently, but her mound feeling the throbbing bulge in my trousers pressing against her.
“Someone’s getting excited,” Anna would say, assuming that I had seen an attractive actress on TV, even though I had been thinking about her daughter. “You always get hard when she’s on screen, don’t you? Want me to help you with that?” she’d ask, rubbing her hands up my inner thigh and over the top of my cock, giving me that look that just told me she was going to give me the most intense blow job. She was excellent at sucking cock; Anna expertly removed my throbbing shaft from my trousers and got to work quickly, one hand at the base, whilst she spat on the top of it and used her other hand to stroke the swollen head of my cock, looking me in the eyes and continuing to dirty talk; “such a fucking bad boy, aren’t you? Fantasising over that young actress? Do you wish it was her doing this to you?” I tilted my head backwards, and visions of Michelle entered my head. ‘Fuck, what am I doing?’ I thought to myself at first. As soon as I thought about her, my cock twitched. ‘She’s your stepdaughter; snap out of it’, the logical side of my brain would be telling me. But in those moments when Anna had my huge cock in her mouth, I could look at her, tilt my head back, and it was Michelle there. Anna was obsessed with sucking my cock on the sofa; the thrill of it being so open and risky turned her on. I didn’t always release my load into her mouth, though; if Michelle was out, I’d return the favour by bending her over and pleasing both of her holes with my tongue, something I would always do for her. I got into the habit of bending her over, making sure she faced a certain way, and keeping both knees on the sofa — a perfect height for me to stand up and fuck her from behind. The reason I did this was because there was a picture of Michelle in her bikini on holiday on the shelf. When I was thrusting into her mother, without fail, I would cum looking at that picture of her, wishing I was depositing my huge load inside her tight little cunt. In those moments, I had the most depraved thoughts of my stepdaughter. Was she a virgin? If she wasn’t, what would she be like in bed? If she’s anything like her mother, she would be filthy. The amount of cum was sometimes so impressive that when I pulled out of Anna, I was still shooting loads over her arsehole after filling her up.
Anna and I had a good sex life; it was regular, kinky, lots of dirty talk, and I could explore most things with her. She was slightly more dominant and liked to take control, but it was sometimes a power battle. She knew I craved it, but I think part of her needed to hold onto control, probably for a reason that I would never know, but it was so much so that I accepted it. She would be the one to initiate more and liked to tell me exactly what to do; she would be the one buying certain toys and restraints, outfits, and telling me what kind of sex she was needing. I didn’t mind this, though. I liked to serve. Besides, speaking to friends of mine who led dull sex lives, I recognised that it was better to have a wife like this than someone who didn’t bother to do anything.
But I still wanted that power. I wanted to corrupt something submissive. Make it mine. Own it completely. I would never have that with Anna.
One evening, we assumed Michelle would be out for the night, as she said she was going to a friend’s house. ‘Was this a guy?’, my mind wandered, taking me to places it shouldn’t. We were on the sofa again, having intense sex, both of us vying for power. Anna pushed me into a seated position on the sofa; my cock was rock hard from some of the stuff she was saying to me while she stroked me gently (mainly around wanting to watch me with a younger woman), so I was ready for her. She climbed on top of me as her nails dug into my shoulders, and she lowered her dripping cunt onto the head of my cock slowly. As each inch entered her, visions of Michelle came back to me as I turned my head to look at the picture of her. I tried to snap out of it and concentrate on my wife again, but she had been talking so much about watching me with a younger woman that I couldn’t help but fantasise about Michelle. My hands found their way under her arse as I lifted her slowly up and down, her pussy taking each thrust upwards. “Fuck yes, you bad boy. You love it when I’m on top, don’t you? Using that big, hard cock of yourss… I moaned in pleasure as she continued to talk dirty to me, but my mind was elsewhere. ‘I wish this was you, Michelle; I wish I had my stepdaughter’s tight little pussy gripping my cock right now’. I snapped out of it for a moment to focus on my wife. I started to suck her erect nipples as I pushed one finger inside her arsehole, something that drove her wild. The sofa we were on was in a position where I could see the door, but Anna faced the window. As she continued to ride my cock like a whore, desperate for my cum inside her, I pulled her in closer so my head was resting over her shoulder and I could thrust even harder into her.
“Take my cock, you fucking slut. Who’s in control now?” I said as my thrusts increased in intensity. I pushed my middle finger further inside her arsehole, and she was moaning loudly at this point. “You still thinking about me inside a younger girl’s tight little pussy?”. Anna couldn’t take it anymore; she started to vibrate, waves of orgasm shaking her violently as her pussy contracted, tightening its grip on my cock. I looked over her shoulder as my thrusts slowed slightly, and there she stood.
It was Michelle.
