Stepdaddy's renown as a man of Ietters (hebephilic and pornographic) has led many to seek his wisdom through the years, leading to the establishment of the "Dear Stepdaddy" advice column. Please feel free to pen your own queries; Stepdaddy will respond in this column, or privately if you so request. Your letters are assumed to be just as fictional and tongue-in-cheek as the examples below. You can find his stories and poetry here.
Dear Stepdaddy,
I'm thirteen years old and in seventh grade. I originally decided I was too old to go trick-or-treating this year, but my friend Brittany talked me into it. She said we should do it not for the candy, but for the excuse to dress "slutty" and tease all the men in the neighborhood. That sounded like fun, so I agreed.
She and I went to the costume shop and found just what we were looking for. She chose a sexy nurse costume, and I chose a sexy pirate girl outfit. Short skirt, buckled shoes with a bit of heel, a cute feathered hat, a black vest, and a ruffled shirt that I unbuttoned enough to show the tops of my A-cup breasts.
The two of us went out, trying to remember which houses had fathers, or at least adult men, who would likely answer the door. We figured that if the family had young kids, one of the parents would be out with their kids, while the other stayed at home to greet trick-or-treaters. We really only wanted to visit the men.
It was fun trying to guess, based upon the few times we'd seen them, which families would likely have mom at home and which would have dad. The difference was amazing. When we guessed wrong, the mom would look at us all sourfaced, and ask us whether we were too old to be trick-or-treating. When it was just the dad at home, he'd be all smiles, and invite us in to the foyer, and discuss our costumes and such. Maybe the funniest cases were when we found both husband and wife at home, the wife scowling and the husband trying to sneak as many looks as he could!
Anyway, my question is about the last house we stopped at. I know the owner, Mr. Miller, pretty well already. He's divorced and only gets his kids on weekends. Since Halloween was on Wednesday, I figured he'd answer the door, alone, and that's what happened.
First, I should probably say, I like Mr. Miller. He always talks to me at the annual block party, and treats me like I'm a grown-up. In fact, his eyes usually treat me like I'm really grown up, if you know what I mean. Anyway, although that should gross me out, I actually sort of like it, and that's probably why I was looking forward to teasing him in my sexy pirate's outfit.
He let us in, and shut the door behind us. That made my tummy tingle, for some reason. It was dim in his front hall, just the glow from a couple of LED jack-o-lanterns to provide light.
"Well, what are you to ladies visiting for?" he asked. At first I was confused, but then Brittany figured it out and said "Trick-or-treat!" in that sing-songy way little kids do.
"Ah, trick OR treat? Which one is it, are you giving me a trick or a treat?"
Brittany had a good comeback she had used earlier when Mr. Donahue asked the same thing, but since Brittany doesn't know Mr. Miller and he's sort of "mine", I beat her to it. "You give us treats, or we'll play a trick on you!"
"Ah, well, yes," and it felt like his eyes were pawing at my teen-aged body as he said it, "but aren't you supposed to be in costumes? Aren't these just your work clothes?"
"Huh?" we answered in unison.
"Well, you're obviously a nurse, so you must have just left your shift at the hospital," he said to Brittany, as he stared at her over-exposed C-cup tits. I was jealous at that moment, to tell the truth. "Although your uniform is so skimpy, you look more likely to catch a cold than to treat one!"
He turned to me. "And you look like you're about to head off to your shift as a cocktail waitress at the Pirate Cove out on Highway 17. So, am I right?"
I didn't know if he was serious or not, although in the dim light I thought I saw a twinkle in his eye. He's kind of handsome when he smiles. On the other hand, he does always treat me as though I'm older, so maybe he thought I was eighteen or something.
"Yeah, that's right," I said, "so how about you give us our treats so we can get back to work?"
He laughed, and gave us each a big dark chocolate bar. He opened the door, but just wide enough for one person at a time. Brittany stepped out first, and as I followed and brushed past Mr. Miller, I froze with a gasp. He had slipped his hand up under my short skirt from behind and cupped my crotch! If it hadn't been for my panties, he would have been actually touching my bare pussy!
I was astounded. He was so bold! Brittany was already sashaying down his walkway, showing off her ass to him, unaware that at that very moment he was pawing away at mine. Mr. Miller spoke quietly to me. "Why this really is a mean trick you've played on me, Becca. In this outfit, I wouldn't have expected to find panties between me and my treat."
He pulled his hand out from my under my skirt, and regaining my senses, I looked up into his face. He didn't look embarrassed, or apologetic, or anything. In fact, he looked downright confident and cocky!
I hurried after Brittany and went home. I couldn't stop thinking about what had just happened. Did Mr. Miller really think I was old enough to be a cocktail waitress? Are grown men allowed to go around feeling up women, I mean if they're eighteen? The way he had said that, about the panties, was embarassing. I mean I was embarrassed for having worn panties! He made it sound like I was in the wrong, and not him.
For some reason, Stepdaddy, I couldn't stop replaying those few seconds of contact, over and over in my mind. And I couldn't stop playing with my middle school pussy while I did so. And each time as I came, I couldn't stop changing the memory, and pretending that it had happened exactly the same way, except I hadn't been wearing any panties.
So here are my questions. Is Mr. Miller confused? Does he think I am older than thirteen? Why can't I keep that memory from coming back, and why can't I keep my fingers off my clit when it does? I feel like I want to go back to his house and pick up where we left off, but I'm afraid he'll figure out I'm too young, and laugh at me. What should I do?
-- Not Really a Cocktail Waitress
Dear Cockteasing Pirate Miss,
Thank you for your letter. You remind me of Hannah Tolliver, who about four Halloweens ago, when she was fourteen, decided to return to Stepdaddy's door, alone, long, long after all the other trick-or-treaters had turned in for the night. She wore a cute little Peter Pan outfit. She arrived wearing panties but, I promise you, she didn't leave with them!
On to your questions. No, Mr. Miller is not confused. He seems to me to be a very astute and focused individual, in fact. No, he probably does not think you are older than thirteen, but since he always talks to you in an adult fashion, he must think you are emotionally mature, and "ready", for your age. That is a compliment. But do him a favor: when you follow the advice I'm about to give you, tell him you are eighteen. Wink when you say it if you want to. Just remember your statement clearly, in case you are ever called to testify under oath, so you don't have to lie. Be able to swear under oath that you said you were eighteen.
Why can't you stop replaying these events in your mind (and upon your juvenile cuntlet)? I think it is, as Mr. Miller also seems to think, because you are emotionally mature and "ready." Mr. Miller will not laugh at you for being so young, don't worry about that. He knows that some girls, like you, are ready for adult friendships even if their last birthday cake was a few candles short of eighteen.
What should you do? That's easy. Some evening very soon, when you know he doesn't have his kids and is therefore alone, put on your sexy pirate costume, this time properly (that is, minus the panties). Knock on his backdoor (no need for all those jealous neighborhood mothers to see you!), and when he answers, just say something like "No trick this time -- just pure treat!" Mr. Miller will help you figure out the rest.
--SD
| Nickname | Date | Feedback |
|---|---|---|
| Allie | 10/1/2016 | I love this letter and your advice, Stepdaddy. I want to try it.
I babysit a lot in our neighborhood, so everyone knows I'm not eighteen. But I am probably to old to trick-or-treat -- in our town, that's mostly kids like I babysit. But I figure men would be ok with that. I told my friend Angela about the idea (teasing, not the part about what happened to Brittany!). we're planning it now, and we're going to only go to houses we're like really sure only men will be at. Since we babysit so much, we know the situation in lots of them. Stepdaddy, I want a man to try something, like Mr. Miller did. I'm thinking of either this Wonder Woman costume [link removed] or this sexy referee costume (football is big in my town) [link removed]. Any advice? |
| Allie,
Two great choices, and rest assured, you're not too old to trick or treat from a man's perspective, if you're wearing a costume like one of these two and his wife's not about! I recommend the referee get-up since it has a skirt, and ridiculously short one at that. This scheme will work with or without panties for those men bold enough to try to cop a feel. Then just hand them a card after they've palmed your crotch that says something like "text me for more" and your number. Do this subtly, don't let Angela see this and make sure the man realizes Angela did not see it. Witnesses kill everything. If you do go panty free you have a couple extra benefits -- one, the chance he will muster the nerve to text you after feeling your naked (and most likely moist) muffin go from 75% to 99.999999%. Second, you can increase your chances of baiting the feeler in the first place by bending over and showing, etc, if you yourself have the nerve. Lastly, take a note from Brittany and Mr. Miller --give your targets the chance to do whatever they might do without Angela seeing. Be last out the door, like Brittany, or go back in "for a second" by yourself "to verify a babysitting appointment on Friday" or whatever (a byproduct of all of this is that your babysitting demand and earnings -- and tips -- are likely to go WAY up). A man, even the boldest, is trying to make a personal pass, not get branded for sexual assault! The final benefit of going panty-less, if you dare, will be your arousal all night long and the thrill of a bold, manly hand on your bare flesh will be a whole lot more exciting. Let me know how it goes, you can send me a message that includes your email (I won't post, of course) if you want to correspond. -Stepdaddy |
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