Wicked Games with Stepdad

My mom had finalized her divorce just over a year ago, and it didn’t take her long to remarry. The moment she introduced me to her new husband, I felt a rush deep in my core.

He was tall, lean with just the right amount of muscle, sporting a neatly trimmed goatee that gave him a rugged edge. I could tell he was the kind of guy who didn’t hold back in bed. I tried to keep my distance – and he did too, always acting cold and detached around me – but everything shifted one humid summer night. I caught my mom sneaking into the house with a guy and a woman in tow. Curiosity got the better of me, so I crept downstairs and peeked through the crack in the door. My jaw dropped when I realized she was tangled up with both of them, cheating on my stepdad without a shred of guilt. It flipped a switch in my head. If she could play around, why couldn’t he?

I was done pretending I didn’t fantasize about him – about wrapping my lips around him until I couldn’t breathe, tasting every drop, feeling him take me hard and fast. I wanted his face buried between my thighs, making me lose control until I exploded. The desire was eating me alive, and I couldn’t hold it back anymore.

So, over the next few days, I started testing the waters. When he’d get home from work, I’d “casually” be lounging in the living room – no bra, wearing tight crop tops that hugged my chest or short skirts that showed off my curves. He’d stare, his dark eyes intense, lingering on my body before looking away with that same stern expression.

One Friday night, my mom left the house like she always did, off to hook up with someone new. I knew my stepdad would be home soon, and I wasn’t about to let the chance slip by.

The front door opened right into the living room, so I positioned myself on the couch, waiting. I had on a tiny black skirt and a lacy red thong that barely covered anything – my excitement already soaking through. Up top, I skipped the bra entirely, letting my breasts sit free, nipples hard against the thin fabric of my tank top.

When I heard his truck pull into the driveway, I didn’t hesitate. I spread my legs wide, slid my thong to the side, and started touching myself, slow and deliberate. The door swung open, and I kept going, even as he stepped inside – with a curvy brunette on his arm. Her eyes widened, but he didn’t miss a beat. He stormed over, grabbed my wrist, and yanked me toward the laundry room while the woman bolted back out the door.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” – he growled, his grip tight on my arm, sending a jolt of heat through me.

“You were gonna screw that chick, huh?” – I shot back, locking eyes with him. His hold tightened, and I glanced down, noticing the bulge straining against his jeans. “Forget her. Screw me instead. I’ll be your dirty little secret.” – I leaned in close, brushing my lips against his jaw. He let go of my arm and grabbed my face with one hand, his fingers digging into my cheeks.

“That what you want?” – His voice was low, rough. I let out a soft moan in response, and that was all it took. He spun me around fast, pressing my chest against the washing machine, my hips jutting out. He dropped to his knees behind me, hands kneading my ass.

“This what you want, huh?” – He yanked my thong down in one swift pull, and I gasped as his tongue found me, teasing and tasting. His hands came down hard on my cheeks, the sting mixing with the pleasure as he devoured me.

I couldn’t stop moaning, my body trembling – until he stood, hoisted me up with those strong arms, and set me on the machine. “Spread ‘em,” – he ordered, and I did, no hesitation. He dove in, his mouth working me over so good I could barely think straight.

“Wait, I think – ” – I couldn’t finish the sentence. His warm tongue flicked faster, his stubble grazing my skin, and when he slid two fingers inside me, I lost it. My release hit hard, soaking his face, and he lapped it all up like he couldn’t get enough.

“Get over here.” – He tugged me by the hair, pulling me down to my knees. With one hand, he shoved his jeans and boxers down, and I nearly drooled at the sight of him – thick, hard, ready. I took him in my mouth, sucking eagerly as he gripped my head, pushing deeper. “Take it all, you little tease.”

It was everything I’d imagined – rough, intense – and when he slapped my cheek with his free hand, it sent a thrill through me. I pulled back just to spit on him, then went right back to work, hungry for more.

Before he finished, he hauled me up, bent me over the machine again, and spread me open. He spat on me, working a finger in slow, then another, making me groan loud. Then, all at once, he thrust into me – hard – one finger still teasing elsewhere. He pounded into me, relentless, spanking me until my skin burned. He flipped me around, sat me back on the edge, and went at my chest – sucking, biting, slapping my breasts with those big hands.

I rocked my hips forward, desperate for more. “Harder, please – ” – That seemed to light him up, because he went at me even rougher, smacking my face now too. “Fingers – back there,” – I begged, and he didn’t waste a second. He turned me over, spread me wide, and pushed in – slow at first, then fast and deep once the sting faded. I felt like a total mess, and I loved it – knowing I was getting it from my stepdad in the damn laundry room only made me wetter. I started touching myself, chasing that high again.