Adulting Is Hard for 01: Marion

This is an original work of fiction. All participants are over the age of 18. Enjoy!

***

Marion lay in her bed, fuming. What was she, some kind of mistreated fairy tale maiden? Yes, she had one year of school still left but she was legal age, now.

I could just move out, she thought. Then see how long Dad put up with her shit.

Marion's father had married her stepmom in a hurry, but he had been single for so long that she had been as understanding as a sophomore girl could be about sharing her father's love with anyone who wasn't her mother. And he seemed happy, for a while.

Since then it had been a slow process of learning Trixie did not want to be a mother, or even, as Brent had hoped, a friend to the teenager. In fact lately, Trixie seemed almost jealous of Marion.

Jealous of me, Marion thought, rolling on her side. As if I have anything she doesn't, or couldn't get just by wagging her ass at Dad. She knew she was sulking now but she didn't care. Oh God, she thought. What if she convinces Dad to kick me out?

Marion felt a little flutter of panic. She had lived here her whole life, and since her mother had gone, disappearing from her life when she was only seven, it had been only Marion and her dad.

Until Trixie.

Marion was now too agitated to fall asleep. But she did not want to show her face outside her room until morning, not after the fight she'd had with her stepmother. In retrospect, she should probably not have said Trixie was a whore's name. Even though it totally was.

Well, Marion thought, too late now. She sighed, staring at the wall. This is ridiculous, she thought, and decided there was definitely one thing she could do to help fall asleep, one that hadn't failed her yet. She reached over to get her trusty double-A vibe out of her night stand.

Sliding her fingers of her free hand over her teeshirt-covered nipple, Marion sighed again. When she had the slim but powerful vibrator in place against her pussy, right above her clit, she thumbed it on low.

The soft humming sensation was instantaneous, and she sighed again. This is what I should have done instead of letting Trixie drag me into a fight, Marion thought. She frowned at the intrusion in her thoughts of that stupid woman, then had an idea. She slid the vibe between her downy pussy lips to just within grazing distance of her clit and held it there, then began imagining ways her stepmother could be sexually humiliated.

Marion breathed faster as she thought of Trixie, made to stand nude in public. No— in a carnival! Wearing a gag for her dumb fat mouth. And spanked by clowns. Wait... fucked by clowns And tied over a barrel. She turned up the speed on the vibe, just a little.

Then the Ringmaster came out. Would he fuck her, too? No, he had too much self-respect. But he knew what to do with her. He produced a long length of flowing white hair, attached to the flared base of a long, black buttplug. He placed the glistening point at the center of Trixie's asshole and fed it in, slowly. Marion liked where her mind was going with this, and rode the low crest of sensation that flared in her pussy.

The Ringmaster relentlessly delivered the length of the plug into Trixie's ass. The wide part was too much for her and she screamed into her gag. A horse the clowns had led into the ring whickered softly in response. Trixie let out a muffled moan as the buttplug settled into her ass. The Ringmaster rubbed one of her cheeks. The clowns laughed. The Ringmaster swept the white, wavy horse tail now protruding from her backside up, and lay it across her back.

Marion applied the vibrator directly to her throbbing clit, wondering if she would finish herself or her dark fantasy first.

With a snapping sound, the Ringmaster brought a riding crop down on Trixie's ass. She shrieked into her gag and tried to scream but it just came out sounding like animal sounds. It also kept her from hearing how the horse snorted as its erection grew from beneath it, drawn out by the sounds of her distress. The clowns, keeping tight on its reins, led the stallion closer.

Making a low, lustful noise in her throat, Marion turned the vibrator on full blast, and almost did not hear Trixie cry out. But there it was again, in the next room. Were they— ugh! They were fucking in the guest room again! Marion was sure her orgasm was out of reach now, her fantasy interrupted by her stepmother's sex-yelps. But then the strangest thing happened, when she heard her father's voice.

He grunted, twice, then growled in a way that gave Marion a dizzy dropping feeling in her pussy. She was still unconsciously humping her vibrator, the pulsing tip rubbing again and again into her slit, making her clit thrum and twitch. Then he groaned, "Oh... oh God!" just as the buzzing toy settled on Marion's clit, and brought her climax screeching home just as her father's exclamation ended.

She hunched into the vibrator harder, as her pussy clenched, gushing out little tastes of her juice, and stifled her moan into her pillow. She left the vibe in place in her cleft and onto her back again, letting the orgasmic aftershocks rock her while she reached up to tug and twist her nipples.

Had she just come at the sound of her father's voice? Marion pulled on her nipples some more, usually enjoying the rough treatment of them directly following orgasm, but she felt weird about it now. She retrieved and turned off her slippery vibe, licking all her juices from the toy and wondering if she really was some kind of pervert.

Through the wall she heard Trixie complain, "Jesus Christ, Brent. I told you not to get it in my hair."

What a bitch.

***

At breakfast, Marion was quiet. Trixie seemed content to play with her phone, even though Brent hated phones at the table. He didn't argue the point, but busied himself with the world news. Out of nowhere he blurted, "Oh, God," and sounded so much like he had through the wall last night that Marion's pussy responded involuntarily. Unsettled, she excused herself and left the table.

"She should get a job," Trixie said before Marion was out of earshot, not bothering to look up from her phone.

Marion skulked around the house all weekend, dreading Monday when she would be alone in the house with Trixie, but kind of avoiding her dad until she figured out why her erogenous zones had gone crazy. It didn't feel right to get wet every time she heard her father's voice, like her pussy was some trained dog and master just rang the dinner bell.

Monday came soon enough, and Marion walked on eggshells, waiting to see how Trixie would manifest her pique— would she be commanded to do demeaning chores, washing the floor like an indentured maid? It was hot out today; maybe Trixie would make her mow the lawn. Marion imagined all kinds of boring, dirty make-work her stepmother could invent to keep her weekdays busy until Friday, when Marion had a doctor appointment.

But Trixie seemed distracted, as she'd been all weekend, by her phone, and didn't bother interacting with Marion at all. Fine with me, Marion thought, though she wondered what so fixated her stepmother's attention. She watched Trixie out of the corner of her eye, typing out messages on the screen, waiting for replies, then typing some more.

Over the course of the day, Marion realized she wanted very much to see what was so interesting in Trixie's messages.

***

It took her most of the week to get a look at Trixie's phone. Marion watched, waiting for a good chance to peek at the screen. It didn't present itself until Thursday night, when Brent ordered pizza. Trixie always answered the door for the pizza delivery. Brent always accused her of flirting with the pizza boy. It was a practiced exchange.

Trixie, as usual, took longer than necessary getting the pizza and paying the driver. Maybe she really was flirting with him. Marion didn't know. What she did know is that after Trixie left the room she could be gone as long as ten minutes... and she left her phone on the kitchen counter.

Marion didn't even have to search. As soon as she brought up the screen, it lit up with a multimedia message. She tapped it, and up popped a photo looking down a smooth torso at a gleaming cock. Accompanying the dick pic was just the word "when" with a question mark. Marion scrolled up to older messages, keeping an eye on her stepmother's location.

Bubble after bubble of text from someone named Toby: "are u alone" and "god ur so hot" and "i will die if i don't fuck u soon". Marion glanced at the door, then at her father, then back to the phone. Even more damning were Trixie's replies: "no. Old Man's here" and "I cant wait to ride your cock" and "not now hubs home, ttyl".

Marion closed the app and put the phone down, retaking her seat next to her dad well before her stepmother returned with the delivery. "You keep flirting like that and I might get jealous," Brent said. And for a change the only thing the sound of his voice made her feel was sad.

So now she knew, Trixie was at least talking about cheating on Marion's dad. What she didn't know was how bold her stepmother would be about it. But she found out the next day.

***

"I know you're eighteen, Marion. I was there. But you're going to have to take the bus; I need the car." Trixie's tone said she would not be argued with. So there it was, Trixie's petty revenge, and Marion had not even had her breakfast.

"My appointment's on the other side of town!" Marion protested anyway, knowing it was pointless.

"And it's not for two hours. You should have plenty of time to catch the 10:30 if you leave in twenty minutes. Now get going," Trixie said, closing the subject.

Impotent rage clawed at Marion's self-control. How dare she? Marion thought, stomping to her room to get dressed. Talk to me like a child, and the bus? I'm telling Dad about Toby and I don't care if they kick me out. She was still stewing when she got to the bus stop half an hour later, just in time to miss the 10:30 to the depot.

"Fuck," Marion said. Angry and frustrated, she sat on the bench and tried not to cry. She failed. She cried for a few minutes and then got mad at herself for crying over something so dumb, and cried harder. When she got it out of her system, she decided to go home. Maybe she could get her wicked stepmother to give her a ride after all, so she wouldn't have to reschedule.

She walked slowly, trying along the way to think of how to broach the subject of Toby the Dick-Pic Guy with her dad. She was so caught up in playing the conversation out in her mind that Marion didn't notice the bicycle parked next to the front walk. She did notice that the front door was locked, though, and she'd forgot her key because of course she had.

Not about to add to the list of things Trixie could bitch at her about, Marion went around the side of the house, intending to try the back door. As she passed the window of the guest room from outside, Marion could hear repeated grunting. She paused, and held still, silent. It was Trixie. She was letting out little explosive sounds of effort and what sounded like pleasure, though it was hard to be sure.

"Ungh, fuck," Trixie said, louder, and Marion wondered if her father was home for a quickie at lunch. Before she could have second thoughts about the possibility of seeing her dad naked, Marion raised her head until she could peek in the window, her curiosity aroused.

The window was open a few inches to let in the temperate air and while the gauzy curtains were pulled, irregular puffs of breeze parted them enough that Marion could see inside. What she saw was not her father, and she was mildly relieved at that, somewhere in the back of her mind. In the front of her mind were the dark brown eyes that locked with hers through the window.

Keeping his gaze locked on hers, he brought a hand to his mouth and raised a single finger to his lips, a clear plea to keep quiet. His slim hips moved rhythmically against the shapely backside of the woman on the bed, whose face was pushed down into the rumpled coverlet. Never breaking eye contact, he put his finger in his mouth and brought it out shining with spit, then with a practiced motion put it between the woman's wobbling asscheeks.

"You motherfucker!" Trixie roared, raising her head from the bed. Marion was frozen. She had kind of forgot she was looking in a window of her own home. The man pushed Trixie's head back down with is other hand, before she could notice her stepdaughter peeping. She hollered into the covers, "Not the ass, bastard. Never the ass!"

"Sorry Trix," he said, laughing. "I couldn't resist, I won't do it again. I promise." The whole time he kept his rhythm against her ass, and as Marion watched he crossed his fingers and put them behind his back. Then he actually winked at the young voyeur. Marion felt a flutter in her groin. He was showing off for her.

Trixie was grunting again, like a farm animal being bred, and slapping her lithe body back to meet his thrusts. "Harder!" she demanded. He put both his hands on her hips and yanked her back while he slammed forward, and Trixie squealed. also like a farm animal. "Fuck me harder!" she wailed.

Marion didn't know if Trixie forgot the window was open, or if she just didn't care if the whole neighborhood heard her screams, but nothing seemed to phase the guy fucking her, who could only be Toby. He watched, smirking, as Marion raised her finger to her own mouth, and let her eyelids droop as she sucked it gently, making sure he could see the wetness on it when she pulled it out.

He couldn't see where she put it, but it didn't take an expert to guess, as her eyes and mouth both opened wider when she felt her saliva-slick finger slide across her quickly swelling clit. She managed to keep from making a sound as she started stroking the sensitive nub, trying to find a pace that complemented the Toby's banging.

"Fuck. Yeah. Fuck. Yeah. Almost. There. Don't. Stop." Trixie was panting and sweating, and making enough noise to get an entire livestock show horny for fucking.

Suddenly the man let out a low moan. "It's coming, Trix. I don't think I can stop it," he said, nodding at Marion as he did. "Where do you want it, babe. Quick." Marion nodded back, rubbing her clit furiously, already close to coming after just seconds.

"Not yet, you dick," Trixie panted, rocking the bed. "Not yet!" But it was past the point of negotiation.

"Yeah!" he yelled, pulling his shining cock from Marion's stepmother, even as she howled in frustration. As the first spurt of his load shot into the back of Trixie's head, Marion's orgasm took her legs out from under her and she sank to her knees beside the house, coming like an earthquake on her own busy hand. Panting and mewling with her sticky fingers in her panties and the other hand bracing against the siding, Marion heard Trixie say, "God dammit, not in my fucking hair!"

Marion slipped away from the scene and into the back of the house while Toby, at Trixie's demand, finished her off with his mouth. Once she was quietly back in her room, Marion dozed off, thinking of the look in Toby's eyes as he'd shushed her at the window and still unsure how to break the news her dad.