I had actually started to drift off, but my fifteen-year old stepdaughter, Kimmie, shifted uncomfortably beneath me. This roused me from that drowsy afterglow that so often follows a man's orgasm.

"Daddy, I can hardly breathe!" I executed a half-push-up and rested over the little schoolgirl. I had finally done it -- I had ravished her sweet virgin pussy. After ten months of blackmailing her into a daily blow job, it might not seem like much of a milestone, but believe me, this had just been the most momentous fuck of my life.

"Why the hell did you have to fuck me?" As the euphoria of her own pleasure faded, my less-than-willing conquest got some of her everyday attitude back.

She had been sucking me off daily so that I wouldn't have her drug-dealing, piece-of-shit boyfriend sent to prison. Although he was only seventeen years old, his record was a long one, and Sergeant Thompson from the local precinct assured me that any time I wanted, he could have Billy sent to the state pen as an adult. Apparently, Thompson had some kind of homo-sadistic interest -- and possibly previous experience -- with Billy. Since it had originally cost me ten grand in a bribe to this same Sgt. Thompson to keep Billy out of jail, I was pretty sure it would take a little cash to get things reversed. Fine with me. I had plenty of money, and having Billy's freedom in my hands was priceless -- it garnered me almost complete control over my sexy little stepdaughter.

I ignored her question. The reason I had fucked her would be obvious to any heterosexual male. Her sweet little body had been asking for it, and her daily oral service had simply ensured I had plenty of opportunity to imagine it. But ultimately, I fucked for the same reason any man who has the opportunity to fuck a sweet teen does -- because he can. I rose to a kneeling position, and my satisfied prick slid out of her just-deflowered hole. With it came a sloppy ooze of semen, blood, and pussy juice, leaking onto her pink and white "little girl" quilted comforter. I'd have to get that cleaned up before my wife Denise got home from her weekend trip.

I wasn't concerned that Kimmie might say something to her mother about this development in our "relationship." Leaving aside the threat to her boyfriend's freedom, there was also the matter of lifestyle. She and her mother had practically been on welfare when I met them, and now she was enjoying a life as one of the richest little bitches in her private girl's school. She didn't want to jeopardize that by complaining to her mother, particularly when she knew I had Denise wrapped around my finger. I was the one who would be believed. She was the one who'd be sent back to her public school, with clothes and allowance fitting her former condition, as "a lesson about lying, dear".

"You said maybe I could go out this weekend, after all?" she asked in a slightly more conciliatory tone.

"Well, honey," I replied, "I have a bit of a conundrum, now. As you well know, part of the arrangement we made ten months ago, which I might remind you is the only thing keeping Billy among the free, was that you couldn't fuck him. I've been able to monitor this with the hymen exams you've been enjoying every week. Now that you seem to have lost that little integrity proof, how will I know you're holding up your end of our deal?"

"Wha-what?! Because you fuck me, I can't see Billy? "Cause you're afraid he'll fuck me? That's bullshit!"

"Watch your mouth with me, young lady! I didn't say that, I said I have a problem that I'll have to think about. In the meantime, for your sass, you can lick me clean." She hesitated for just a moment, and then slurped the messy thing right into her mouth. With the ambiguity of my last statement, she was probably hoping to please me enough to earn her reprieve. She'd sucked her mother's cunt sauce off my dick many a time, and my semen was nothing new to her. I guess she figured a little virgin blood mixed in was no big deal, either.

I did indeed have a conundrum, though. Letting her see Billy once in a while, even restrained by the terms of our arrangement, had been an effective tool in managing this little sex kitten. Furthermore, having taken possession of that little slot for myself, I was even less willing than ever to share it. I resolved to temporize over the weekend, sampling her sweet schoolgirl cunt as often as I could manage, and see if my jealousy might abate enough to relax my restriction -- or better yet, find a way to deal with Billy once and for all.

"That's enough, honey," I said as I felt my prick begin to swell. "Go make us some dinner. I'll tell you what... you'll get to see Billy soon. Maybe this weekend." She scampered off hopefully toward the kitchen, her wrinkled mini-skirt only half-heartedly pulled down to cover her slime-painted ass. As much as I loved the sight, I didn't want blood or cum stains on any of the furniture, so I told her to clean up first.

After she headed downstairs, I took my phone in my bedroom. I had the beginnings of a plan.

-o0o-

A couple of hours later, after dinner, just as I thought about getting in another slice of Kimmie pie, the phone rang. Good, they'd found him. I answered the phone, got the details, and hung up. The timing was perfect, as Kimmie was beginning to get "all sweet" with me. That meant she was about to ask me if she could go out.

"Kimmie, that was Sgt. Thompson. They just picked up Billy; he's down at the jail. I didn't have anything to do with this," I lied, "but maybe I can do something for him. Not right now, though. That little twerp needs to spend some time in jail. I don't want to spend my money getting his ass out for every little thing, or he'll send me to the poor house." The only money I was really losing was the cash I'd have to pay Thompson to follow the special instructions I had given him during our earlier call.

"What! What happened? He didn't do anything!"

"Honey, we both know that's probably not true. Tell you what: I'll take you down to see him on Sunday. That is if you're cooperative this weekend. Now come over here and sit in my lap."

We watched a little TV, my fingers lazily toying with her naked pussy the whole time. She was upset about Billy, but it wasn't the first time since she'd known him he'd spent a night or two in jail, so she eventually relaxed. I could feel her pussy begin to warm up to the attention. Normally in a circumstance like this, I'd watch TV while she nursed on my cock, but I didn't want to waste any of my vigor on that old game this weekend. We watched one of her favorite shows for an hour, at the end of which she was so hot and bothered from my stroking that she didn't protest in the slightest when I fucked her from behind right there on the couch. She enjoyed it, and may even have cum, but if so, not with the force of her earlier episode at the end of my tongue.

After that, we went our separate ways for a few hours, although I kept an ear and eye on her to ensure she didn't leave the house. At bedtime, I let her retire to her own room, where she changed into her little panties-and-T-shirt outfit, before I surprised her with the news that she'd be sleeping in the bed I normally shared with her mother. I gently fucked her one more time, in the "spoons" position, before we drifted off with my wilting but happy cock tucked up inside her little fifteen-year-old snatch.

I awoke before her on Saturday morning, so I decided to usher in her day with a good tongue-lashing. By the time she was fully awake, she had already been moaning and humping up into my face for several minutes. I kept eating her, even after she began begging me to fuck her. Only after she had enjoyed a shattering orgasm from my oral attentions did I crawl up her teenaged body and give her a breakfast fuck.

It seemed my efforts to turn her attitude toward me around were beginning to work -- as her body betrayed her, her mind tried to explain it. If she were like most women, she would come to believe that she actually did like me emotionally, and that was why she was enjoying the sex. "I must like him, because I like him fucking me, and I'm not a slut". "Cognitive dissonance", they had called that in my Psych 101 class back in college, and I've always found it a powerful tool in manipulating the female mind.

After breakfast, I suggested we break in our secluded backyard pool for the first time that year. It was a sunny day, one of the first truly hot days in May, and I knew she enjoyed sunbathing. It didn't take much to convince her that she might as well get to work on an all-body tan, so she didn't even bother with a suit. I enjoyed rubbing lotion all over her sweet eighth-grade body, into every nook and cranny.

After enjoying the sun for an hour or so, we jumped in the pool. It wasn't long before we were splashing each other, and I was throwing her tight eighty-five-pound body into the air and "failing" to catch her as she hit the water. She started giggling and enjoying herself, and actually hanging around my neck, just like she had when she was a ten-year old. I actually sensed growing (or in this case, returning) affection from her, and to tell you the truth, I was feeling more than mere predatory sensations on my own part.

The ten-year old Kimmie however, had never led me by the hand to the shallow end of the pool for a leisurely, slow screw. I was surprised at the fifteen-year old Kimmie's turn-around, but I happily joined in. This was going even better than I had hoped.

We spent the rest of the day and evening together, of course. Most of the time we were physically caressing each other or even copulating, but a good part of the time we just spent in each other's company, and we started enjoying our time together in ways that we hadn't since our "arrangement" went into effect ten months before. I didn't regret for one instant the several hundred loads of cum that this "arrangement" had allowed me to pump down her less-than-willing throat over those ten months. And I certainly didn't want to take back any of the cum I had shot up her cunt thus far this weekend. But I did enjoy the move toward a more civil, might I even hope, affectionate relationship that this long intimate Saturday seemed to promise. She took a shower before bed, and when I followed her up about forty-five minutes later, it didn't really surprise me to find her waiting in my bed.

On Sunday morning, I awoke to the feel of her skilled schoolgirl mouth on my cock. I must admit, I was starting to get a little "chapped" after so much screwing, and this, the first voluntary blow job she'd ever given me, was just what the doctor ordered. I sighed contentedly as I thought about the change in her attitude. The more I learn about women, the less I understand, but I'm happy to take advantage of it, nonetheless.

After so much sex, I'm afraid I didn't have too sizable a load for her breakfast, but she happily swallowed what I could give her. After our real breakfast, I brought up Billy for the first time in two days.

"Why don't we go down to the cop shop and see how Billy is doing today, Honey?"

She looked a little surprised, and maybe a bit embarrassed at herself. If I judged things right, she was a little less interested in Billy now. She seemed puzzled by my friendly sounding offer. Of course, she knew nothing of what I had prepared with Sgt. Thompson.

We headed down to the station around noon, after I called Thompson to let him know when we'd be there. It was his day off, but for the additional five grand, he was happy to come in. He was also looking forward to the demonstration he and I had planned, and he frankly admitted inclinations congruent with those I had long suspected.

He met us in the dayroom at the precinct, and quickly led us into an observation room, complete with one-way mirror into an interrogation bay. Kimmie and I sat down, I trying to suppress a smirk, and Kimmie looking quite puzzled. In a few minutes, Sgt. Thompson entered the interrogation room, and sat in a chair which he had turned away from the only table in the room to face the door. We had a good profile view. A minute later, a jailer led a slightly used-looking Billy into the room, his hands cuffed behind his back. The jailer left, shutting and latching the door behind him.

Kimmie called out Billy's name, but I informed her that he couldn't hear her. The speakers that normally would carry sound from interrogation into our room were turned off, so we couldn't hear them, either. What happened next was a major surprise to Kimmie. Sgt. Thompson said something to Billy, and then pulled out his semi-erect cock. Billy sank to his knees, and swallowed the law officer's prong, wholesale.

Kimmie gasped, and a surprised "No!" sprang from her, as she looked on in horror. What she didn't know was that this was no impulsive act on Billy's part. He had been well prepared for this scene. Sgt. Thompson had assured me that after all of Billy's trips to juvenile detention centers, he was no stranger to fellatio, and as I had suspected, in a former job Sgt. Thompson himself had frequently taken samplings. Further, since being picked up on Friday, Billy had shared a cell with an inveterate, hardened convict. This mean bastard was out on parole, but had willingly agreed to spend the weekend as a guest of the city after Thompson had promised him all the boy-meat he could care to rape. After being broken down for almost forty-eight hours, Billy had been led to the interrogation room and told that all his charges would be dropped if he managed to please Sgt. Thompson. At this point, both his eagerness to get out and his numbness to the idea of sucking dick made him quite compliant when Thompson told him what to do.

Leaving the cuffs on him had been my idea, sort of a reminder to Kimmie of all those afternoons she had spent cuffed before my manhood, servicing me as Billy was now servicing his nemesis. Thompson had loved the idea, not just the cuffs, but the blow job as well. On top of all that, he knew I would be handing him an envelope of c-notes in the near future. I liked cultivating his allegiance to me. You never know when you might need a cop in your hip pocket.

I made Kimmie watch until after Thompson had pumped his load down Billy's throat and forced the punk to lick him clean. Then she was more than ready to leave, without speaking to Billy.

My wife Denise returned from my mother's that evening, to report that it had been a false alarm, and of course my mother was fine. She chose not to join Kimmie and me in the pool for an after-dark swim, which allowed me to knock off one more piece of fifteen-year-old ass for the weekend. I wouldn't have been capable of servicing my wife that evening, but thankfully my mother had worn her out and all she wanted to do was sleep.

Thereafter, I continued my afternoon sessions with Kimmie, but now I was usually sending my load into her healthy young womb, rather than down her throat. At the end of the month, she told me she had missed her period. I bought her an early pregnancy test, and sure enough, she was bearing a child, mine by default. Now for an alibi. At my direction, Thompson arranged for Billy to be let out on his own recognizance while he awaited trial (his promise to drop the charges having been a bald lie). He called Kimmie again and again, but she refused to see him. I don't think she ever told him why. After a week, he broke down and tried to force his way into our house. Neither Kimmie nor my wife was at home at the time. I held him at gunpoint while we waited for the police. We were now able to add criminal trespass and attempted assault to his charges. While we waited for the cops, I played him the video I had made of the day I took Kimmie's cherry. I then destroyed the DVD before his eyes. Even he knew that he'd never be believed.

I understand he was sentenced to two years in the "Big House". Far more importantly, as far as Kimmie and I were concerned, was the blood test. You see, we informed the state that we believed Billy had gotten Kimmie pregnant during his week out. Thompson was able to swap a blood sample I provided with the sample taken from Billy, so the official paternity is his. This is probably bewildering to the little shit, but with the test and Kimmie's "confession", that's all there is to it. Obviously we followed this with a restraining order for when he gets out -- his only purpose in the paternity charade was to protect the truly guilty, me.

Her mother was furious with Kimmie for getting pregnant, but I convinced Denise we should keep the baby and raise it as our own. Of course, Kimmie is required to stay close to home these days, under my watchful care every afternoon. We're back to blow jobs again, for the most part, for as I remind my preganant stepdaughter, "she's eating for two now." Kimmie's ultrasound indicates that it's a girl on the way. Although Denise isn't happy about the pregnancy, she is happy that I have promised to raise her daughter's daughter with all the love, care and attention that I have always given to Kimmie.

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