The next couple weeks were a bit of a blur. I had school, my mom and her boyfriend worked often, but he always managed to find ways to stay out of the house. I knew he was avoiding me. He had to feel guilty about what we had done, and I even felt the pang of guilt every so often, wondering if I had pushed too hard for what had happened.
So I spend the time just focusing on school, but every night, when I was alone in bed, I had my eight inch dildo, my memories, and a lot of time to myself. Every time I felt the piece of silicon enter me, I wished it was him. Every time, I felt my ass stretch open, I remembered the force with which he had fucked me with. Every time my hole clamped down on the dildo, I remembered the way it felt when he came inside me. I needed more of him.
Time went by slowly, but finally, after close to three weeks, we finally had a night where he was home and so was I. Either he couldn't make the excuse to leave, or he thought it had been long enough, either way, we had the apartment to ourselves.
I had taken to wearing shorter shorts and tank tops at home, hoping to entice this man if I ever caught him. By this point, he was working day shift and my mother was working swing, so they rarely saw one another. Whether by design or accident, I never knew, but I hoped it would work out in my favor. I had lube and my dildo laid out in my bed, ready for later if I needed to employ them.
I walked out of my room and into the living room where he sat in the single person chair. His gray hair was still slicked back with gel and he still wore his work uniform of black pants, a button down shirt, and a vest. His eyes followed me as I walked over and sat down on the couch, as close to him as I could get without being obvious.
"Hey. How was work?" I asked, forcing my gaze to the baseball I didn't care about on the television.
"Not too bad. Passed by pretty quickly." He said, his voice hesitant.
I just nodded and continued to watch the TV. It took every fiber of my being to not look at him. He was uncomfortable, I could already tell, and for whatever reason, he was home tonight. If I wanted to get things going, I'd need him to drink and to change.
Over thirty minutes passed before he finally stood. He sauntered off toward the hallway that led to the room that he shared with my mother, though they were rarely in there at the same time. I waited a minute and got up.
Heart thumping in my chest, I walked as carefully and slowly as I could toward the hall. The bedroom door to their room was left cracked. Intentional or not, I moved closer, hope alive in my chest as I felt my cock begin to harden in my shorts.
I moved up to the door and leaned in, trying to spy what I could from the not so generous crack in the door. My narrowed view saw across the room, the foot of the bed and television clearly visible, but the bathroom, which was off to the left, was out of view.
He walked from the left toward the room, in his white undershirt and unbuckled pants. I felt my hardening cock turn to steel in my shorts and reached down to squeeze it as I held my breath.
He stood with his back to me, checking his phone. I heard him sigh and toss it onto the bed. My heart thudded in my chest, feeling so loud I wondered if he could hear it. His pants came off followed by his shirt, and he stood there in just his underwear.
"I wish he'd just go hide in his room," I heard him say. Guilt flooded me, but the horniness of my perverted spying kept me glued to the crack in his door.
The man of my dreams turned around and I could see his big, floppy package contained in his tight briefs. My mouth salivated at the sight as I drank him in. His body was soft, like a bodybuilder who stopped going to the gym, but he was strong, thick thighs, and a thick chest. He was one of the most beautiful men I had ever seen at that point.
My heart froze in my chest though as I looked up and saw him looking in my direction. Did he see me? Had I once again gotten too eager? I stayed glued to this spot, knowing that if he didn't see me, he would see my movement if I left. Maybe I should let him see my movement and get his brain back to a few weeks ago again now that we were alone for the night.
I backed away from the door, my decision made. I hoped he saw me leave. I crept back toward the living room, trying to ignore the steel in my shorts as I sat back down on the couch where I had been before.
It was several minutes before my almost step father reappeared again. He wore basketball shorts, and from what I could see, no underwear, and a tank top. He resumed his seat in the chair near me without a word. If he had seen me before, he wouldn't say anything.
My cock eventually went down as time passed and I actively watched sports on the television, trying my best not to be bored, but also to not look at him. Scaring him off was the last thing I wanted.
"Are you hungry?" He asked me after an hour or so.
The afternoon had quickly turned to night, and my rumbling stomach answered the question. He got up from his chair, and I looked, noticing his swinging cock in them. My eyes were glued on his package longer than they should have been. I looked up and caught him catching me eyeing his cock and looked down, my cheeks red.
"How does pizza sound?" He asked, not saying anything about my staring.
We ordered food, and while we waited for it to arrive, he made himself a rather large drink of Jack and Coke. He normally used the smaller, glass cups for his drinks, but tonight he made his cocktail in one of our large, plastic cups that were about three times the size. Interesting.
He stayed in the kitchen, nursing his drink while watching the game from the cutout in the kitchen wall. There was no way he was going to make this easy on me, if he was even doing anything at all.
When the doorbell rang, I took that opportunity to leap up and beat him to the front door. I greeted the pizza guy and took the food from him while the man of my dreams paid him cash. I felt his cock in his shorts brush my ass as I slid by him and shuddered. It was momentary, and nothing really, except because of my fixation, I savored every single millisecond that his meat was back in contact with my ass again.
