Dominated By Her Stepdaughter Ch 05

Standing, Carla stripped off her T-shirt and tossed it aside. She was braless underneath, revealing full, firm breasts with nipples standing up tall and proud. She cupped them in her hands, pinching her buds, kind of showing off for Annabel. She knew that her boobs were one (or was it two?) of her best assets, and she'd been known to refer to them by quoting the old

Seinfeld

line: "They're real, and they're spectacular." Even Annabel, who was no slouch in that department, found herself staring open-mouthed in admiration.

Releasing her tits, which bobbled pleasantly a few times before settling down, Carla slowly and teasingly undid each button on her jeans. Soon her fly gaped open, black pubic hair peeking out from underneath (she wasn't wearing underwear either). She slid one hand down her pelvis and between her legs, coating it in her juice, which she then spread onto her breasts. Bending forward, she pressed her left nipple against Annabel's lips, which parted willingly to receive it; at this point the older woman was putty in her hands. Carla let her suckle on that one for awhile, then replaced it with the other.

This was Annabel's first taste of another woman's pussy juice. It was a complex flavor, familiar but with a twist, and not an unpleasant one -- in fact, the more she tasted it, the more she liked it. She was a little disappointed when Carla's breasts were completely clean, tasting only of young flesh and salt.

Carla wriggled out of her jeans, let them fall to the floor, and stepped out of them. She now stood naked in front of her stepmother, who was also naked, gazing up at her with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. It was a delightful moment of anticipation, and Carla took the time to stop and savor it.

When the time was ripe, Carla climbed up onto the couch and placed one knee on either side of Annabel's head. Annabel looked up wide-eyed, realizing what was being demanded of her. Carla stared back coolly. "You don't get something for nothing," she said.

Annabel, having been brought up with a very strong sense of fairness, took this to heart. But nothing in her upbringing had prepared her for the idea of performing oral sex on your husband's daughter. Also, of course, she had no experience in this area. So for a long moment she just lay there staring up into Carla's crotch, inhaling the heady scent of female arousal, taking in her first close-up view of a vagina.

"Sometime today," snarled Carla.

Obediently, Annabel stuck out her tongue and took a first tentative lick. She felt Carla quiver in response, and this positive feedback was very encouraging. She ran her tongue all along the length of Carla's slit, thrilling, suddenly, at the very

wrongness

of this -- here she was, good girl Annabel, eating her stepdaughter's pussy.

Carla knew without having to ask that this was Annabel's first time, so she was very patient, enjoying the eager but somewhat clumsy way that Annabel was trying to pleasure her. Eventually she guided Annabel to her clit, and after some experimentation Annabel began to figure out what to do with it.

When she felt her orgasm approaching, Carla leaned down into 69 position. Timing her efforts carefully, she licked and sucked Annabel's clit in such a way that they came almost simultaneously.

Carla's orgasm was powerful, but Annabel's was cataclysmic -- hands down, the best climax she'd ever had. She very nearly passed out. In that moment of ecstasy, any sense of what they were doing being wrong seemed far, far away.

For a while the two of them just lay there basking in the afterglow. For Carla, there was a very satisfying sense of conquest, of a mission accomplished, in addition to the physical pleasure.

When Carla climbed off Annabel blinked a few times as if just waking up. Had it, in fact, all been a dream? It seemed impossible that it had actually happened, that she had just had sex with her stepdaughter. But there was Carla, naked, her derriere swaying as she walked toward the bathroom.

When she returned Carla quickly dressed. "I have a party to get to," she said. She looked down at Annabel, splayed out there unmoving, her pretty face smeared with Carla's fluids. "That was fun." With that, she turned and was gone.

* * *

For a long time Annabel stayed stretched out on the couch, staring at the ceiling, lost in her thoughts. She didn't get dressed, didn't eat, didn't move except to pull a blanket over herself as the night grew cooler.

Her life had taken a turn. A door had been opened that could not be closed. Even if she and Carla never did anything again, the fact that they had done it once was enough. She would never be able to forget that it had happened, and that it had felt

so incredibly good

. Her pussy tingled just thinking about it.

She was not a frequent masturbator, but she ended up frigging herself to orgasm three times on the couch before dragging herself to bed in the wee hours. She finally fell asleep just a few minutes before Carla pulled into the driveway, home from another night of debauchery.

It was almost noon when Annabel rose. The first thought in her mind was of Carla. She walked to the window to see if her stepdaughter's car was in the driveway; it was, so Carla must have made it back at some point. What did she do when she went out? Annabel knew that Carla had a lot of friends and went to a lot of parties, but she had no mental picture to accompany these ideas.

She was downstairs in the kitchen making tea when Carla appeared in her bathrobe. Annabel herself was fully dressed, probably overdressed; nervous about seeing Carla for the first time since their tryst, she had put on a loose, long-sleeved shirt and a big pair of sweatpants.

Annabel poured them both cups of tea, and Carla sat down to drink hers while Annabel went over to see what was in the refrigerator. When she turned back around, Carla said, "Why in the world are you dressed like that? It must be 90 degrees in here."

"I... I don't know," Annabel stuttered, shrugging.

"Take it off," said Carla.

Annabel didn't know it at the time, but this was a turning point. Carla was testing her, asserting some authority to see if Annabel resisted. If she had, things might have gone differently.

But Annabel didn't resist. Having Carla give her an order excited her; she felt a vibration between her legs and her nipples began to stiffen. She pulled her shirt off, folded it carefully, and put it down on the kitchen table.

"The pants too," instructed Carla.

Meekly, Annabel slipped out of her sweatpants, rolled them up, and sat them on top of the shirt. This left her with only a matching white lace bra and panties.

"Much better," said Carla. "Now make me some eggs."

And Annabel did. She could hardly believe it, but as if acting on autopilot, she made omelets with tomato, green onions, and cheddar and brought them to the table.

When they were finished eating, Annabel started clearing the dishes. Carla sat at the table, sipping tea, openly staring at Annabel's tits and ass as she worked. Even when her back was turned, Annabel could feel Carla watching her, eyes boring into her. By the time she was finished cleaning up, she was dripping wet between the legs and her erect nipples were clearly visible through her bra.

Crooking a finger, Carla gestured for Annabel to come closer. She did. Carla pointed to the ground, and Annabel dropped to her knees. Carla untied the sash of her robe, let it fall open, and slowly spread her legs. Annabel looked up at her, and Carla nodded.

Annabel started by kissing each of Carla's knees, which she found surprisingly soft. Then she began to work her way up the younger woman's thighs, kissing, licking, nibbling. When she reached the top, Carla grabbed a handful of her hair, yanked her head back, and pushed a breast into her mouth.

When her boobs felt sufficiently attended to, Carla grabbed Annabel by the hair again and pushed her stepmother's head down between her legs. Annabel attacked Carla's pussy with an eagerness and ferocity that took the younger woman by surprise. She let out an involuntary moan as Annabel's tongue pushed inside her. On the whole, Annabel's technique was better than it had been the day before -- not great, but better. And what she lacked in technique she more than made up for in enthusiasm.

When Carla came she pushed Annabel away but held her there, kneeling on the kitchen floor. After taking a minute to recover, Carla was ready for more. "Again," she barked.