First I would like to thank everyone for reading my stories. Secondly I love to get feedback on the stories I write, positive as well as negative feedback. Negative feedback tells me how I need to improve my stories; while the positive feedback informs me what the readers like about them, it also inspires me to write more stories. So please vote on the stories you read and send me some feedback. Also tell me if I should continue the story and which direction you would like it go.
I want everyone to know that this is a work of pure fiction. John Derek had only two children with his first wife, Pati Behrs. John divorced her to marry Ursula Andress, whom in this story is my mom. After he divorced Ursula he married Linda Evans, then after a six year marriage he divorced her as well. John then married Kathleen Collins (Bo Derek) and stayed married to her until his death in 1998.
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Description: This is a story about what happened one night between me and my stepmother, Bo Derek.
I still to this day can't believe what happened between my stepmother and me. My name is John Derek Jr., my dad was John Derek and his fourth wife was Bo Derek. I was one of six children that John Derek had from his previous three marriages.
My mom was Ursula Andress, John Derek's second wife. From what my mother tells me they never had a good marriage. It seems that my dad was a bit of a player; he supposedly had a lot of extramarital affairs.
Even though my mother knew about my dad's indiscretions; she stayed with him trying to work out there problems for my benefit. But when my mother finally figured out that my dad wasn't going to change, she filed for divorce.
After my parents got divorced my mother moved us far way from my dad. She bought a villa on the out skirts of Rome, Italy. This was pretty far away from my dad, since he was living at his beach house in Malibu, California.
Growing up I was an extremely lucky kid. I would spend my school year with my mom in a luxurious villa in Rome and my summers with dad where ever he was shooting a movie.
In the summer of 1972, I meet my future stepmother, Bo Derek. My dad was directing a movie in Greece called fantasies, which Bo had the leading role in. Even though she was only sixteen my dad was taken by her looks, so was I.
I was only nine years old and knew absolutely nothing about sex; but I got the biggest crush on her anyway. I spent my entire summer following her around, like a little lost puppy. Both Bo and my dad knew I had a crush on her and they thought it was sweet.
On the last day of the summer Bo took me to the beach, she told me that she needed to get a better tan for her next scene in the movie. I thought she already had a great tan; her body had a golden bronze color. Why would she need to get a better tan?
When we got down to the beach I noticed that almost every woman was topless. I could feel something strange happening to my stomach, but I didn't know what it was.
We found a nice spot to put our stuff down and spread a blanket out on the sand. I sat down on the blanket looking up at Bo, whom was still standing. She removed the sundress she was wearing and dropped it onto the sand. There she was standing there in a tiny bikini that barely covered the nipples on her boobs.
My mouth dropped open as I was staring at her tits. Then all of a sudden she pulled her top off exposing them. She looked down at me gawking at her body and she began to laugh.
"John, stop staring at me." Bo said breaking my trance "Look around the beach, Just about every woman is topless."
"I know," I responded as I turned away and began to blush.
"Don't be embarrassed," She told me "It's normal for a boy to stare at a topless woman, if you didn't I would be worried."
"I'm not embarrassed." I said trying to make it sound like I was cool.
Bo gave me a smile and lay down next to me on the blanket. She closed her eyes and began to relax: I on the other hand continued to admire her body. She was in great shape, not one ounce of fat on her body. She had a firm tight little ass, firm B cup tits and muscular tan legs.
I could see that she went topless before; because she had a faint hint of tan lines on her boobs. I guess that was the part of the tan she needed to work on.
After a few minutes Bo opened her eyes, sat up and looked around the beach. There weren't too many people on the beach so it gave her a chance to get more comfortable. She rolled over onto her stomach and lowered her bikini bottom to get a tan on her ass.
"Would you do me a favor?" Bo asked.
"Of course," I stammered staring at her ass "Whatever you want."
"Put some lotion on my back." she said "I don't want to get a sun burn."
I couldn't believe what I was just asked to do. I would finally be able to touch this goddess's body. So without hesitation I grabbed the suntan lotion and positioned myself over her back.
I covered both my hands with lotion and massaged it onto her back. I think I heard a sigh escaping from her lips, but I wasn't sure. After I coated her back with lotion I moved my hands to the sides of her body. As I was putting lotion on the sides of her body, I accidentally touch her left boob.
"You can stop now." Bo told me.
"OK," I said as I continued to stare at her ass "I didn't mean to touch your breast."
"Like father, like son." she said in an almost whispering voice as she turned her face away from me.
I didn't know what she was talking about and I didn't care. At the age of nine, on the last day of my summer vacation, I touched my first tit and when I get back to school everyone would know.
I never wanted that summer to end, but like all good things they do come to an end. I returned back to my mother's villa in Rome and got ready for another school year.
I attended a very strict catholic school, where you weren't allowed to say the word tit, along with a lot of other words. But on the first day of school I had to tell all my friends about my vacation and what had happened. I had the whole school talking about my vacation; I thought I was the coolest kid in school.
That was until my third day at school when I was called down to the principal's office. As I entered the office I noticed my mother sitting on a chair in front of the principal's desk. I was told to sit in the chair next to her; as I was sitting down I got a sinking feeling in my stomach.
It seems that all the bragging I did about my summer vacation made its way up to the principal.
"Is it true?" the principal asked.
The only thing I could do was admit that it was true. What could I have done, commit a mortal sin by lying to a catholic priest; I would burn in hell if I did that.
The school punishment wasn't as bad as the punishment my mother was going to dish out. The punishment from the principal was a two week suspension from school; I had to serve as an altar boy for two masses every Sunday for a year. But the final punishment was that I was never to talk about my summer vacation again.