From Ole.Joe@poboxes.com Sun Feb 09 22:46:43 1997

From: "Col. Brewster" <macvsog@mercury.gaianet.net>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Story:First Fuck (stepfather/stepdaughter)
Date: Sat, 6 Jul 1996 02:44:10 -0700

I did not write this story!

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True Stories (1):  The Stepfather - First Fuck
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     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 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 taut
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 tautly
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 gray 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 nagging 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 into 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 taut 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.