****************************************************************
                  True Stories:  The Stepfather - First Fuck
       ****************************************************************

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 whatsisface, 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 11-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 cut 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
beatiful, 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 has always been
quite mature.  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 thirteen and fast
approaching fourteen, 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 and remarkably developed thirteen-year-old has her
legs wrapped around my waist, pressing her thighs and crotch and absolutely
flat stomache 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 unhid 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 thirteenth 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 fingerfucking 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 14- year-old
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 14-year-old 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 young 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 14-year-old
stepdaughter.  And never have I loved it so much, in part because she was 14
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.