A Family Too Close

A Family Too Close 2: Jasmine and Bill

Author's Note. This is the second of a four-part series involving sexual relations between stepsiblings and their respective parents. It is a TABOO story and if such fantasies offend, then this is likely not the story for you. All characters are over the age of 18.

Charlie and Jasmine's plan was pretty simple, and complimentary to Jasmine. Charlie suggested that she was so hot that if she merely made an effort to show off her body to Bill, he would eventually be unable to resist. Jasmine hadn't been sure at first, unable to believe that her body held such a power over anyone, especially her stepfather. But Charlie insisted, telling her that Bill would soon be putty in her hands and a stiffness in her bed with a little bit of effort. She giggled at that, horny even at the idea.

The next morning Jasmine immediately got to work once she heard her mother leave the house, deciding to wear a little white crop top that was far too small and loose 70s style running shorts that were cut short enough to leave little to the imagination and, if she spread her legs just right, well, in that case, nothing was left to the imagination. She could hear Bill in the kitchen making a coffee, likely reading his newspaper at the kitchen island as he always did. The perfect time to parade herself around him.

As she walked down the stairs, she could feel her breasts jiggling up against her top. The cool of the morning had made her nipples erect already, and the top was now nearly sheer. She wouldn't be able to run in this outfit, but she it was a running outfit in name only.

"Morning!" She said as she bounced into the room, making sure to skip a little to make sure eyes were drawn to the right place.

Bill looked up momentarily to say it back, but no words came out, his eyes instantly stuck on her breasts, his lips opened a little wide. "Oh, er...morning." He said back, forcing himself to look back down at his coffee, a light flush trickling its way over his pale cheeks upon realising he was looking. Jasmine smiled, knowing that while she wanted to push it, to see what further reaction she could gauge, she didn't want to go too far. That embarrassed look had been enough. She was hot, and he knew it.

Bill forced his eyes to look down at the newspaper, though the words suddenly seemed to be the least interesting thing he could imagine. Why was Jasmine wearing such a skimpy little outfit like that? When he had first become involved with her mother, he had been surprised at how westernized Jasmine was, but she had still maintained some degree of modesty in her dress and behavior. Things had changed after the marriage. He had blamed the move and, even Charlie's influence. But, this was something completely new. Part of him thought that maybe he should take the opportunity to parent her, to tell her to wear something more appropriate...but he couldn't find the words. Was it even his place to say something like that? And wouldn't it make her embarrassed to know that he'd seen her so exposed? No, he decided, he wouldn't say anything. A small voice at the back of his mind whispered that he didn't want to say anything because he had enjoyed the view, but he soon waved it off. She was his

stepdaughter

. Of course, it was nothing like that. But she was hot. That he couldn't deny. A young reflection of her mother. The same light brown skin. The dark hair. The body. The lithe, full breasted body. The firmness of youth. He felt his cock stir. What was wrong with him?!

As Jasmine pranced around the kitchen, reaching for orange juice and making her toast, Bill's eyes found themselves glancing at her constantly. Her shorts were so short that it barely counted as clothes, teasing what she hid underneath. And then there was the top. Spaghetti strapped and stretch taut against her skin so it might as well have been see-through. She wasn't wearing a bra so he could see the outline of her breasts hug the material of her top, her cleavage eager to be released. The length of her silky torso and flat plane of her abdomen. She was all-natural, but her tits weren't much smaller than her mother's. They were perky, round, begging to be touched. He couldn't help but wonder if they were as soft as they looked. But then he heard her glass hit the countertop, and he blinked, shuffling on his seat and coughing nervously.

"Everything okay, Bill?" Jasmine then asked, her voice a light trill, hiding mischief in every syllable.

"Oh yeah, I'd best be off to work now." He said. "Have a good day." He didn't look at her once as he picked up his bag and headed for the front door, his eyes firmly fixed on the ground. Jasmine smiled and did a little triumphant twirl once the door shut behind him.

Charlie was right

, she thought.

Maybe this would be easier than she thought.

The next few days, Jasmine continued to parade around the house in the skimpiest outfits she could possibly think of. Of course, it helped that Anita had been feeling ill, so had been wearing the comfiest, most unattractive outfits imaginable - all old jumpers and ragged sweats. In comparison, Jasmine looked like an angel, a naughty, skimpy angel who had taken to stretching and dancing wherever her stepfather was just in view.

One Saturday morning, she started to do some yoga in the living room where Bill was sitting down with a book. She was wearing thin, flattering yoga pants that hugged her every curve and swell and a sports bra that pushed her breasts up high, making them somehow even juicier looking than before. She was stretching out on her yoga mat, making sure that her ass was always facing Bill. She wanted to look over to see if he was peeking but knew that would break whatever spell she was managing to hold over him.

She winced loudly then, dramatically pretending to struggle with a position.

"Are you okay, Jasmine?" Bill asked then. His deep voice sending a trill through her body. She remembered him once joking to her and her mother about how cliched it was that two Indian women did yoga. There was no humour in his voice today.

"I'm struggling to reach this particular position." She said, wishing more than anything that she could turn around to see where his eyes were fixated. "Could you help me?"

Bill blinked a few times, trying desperately to stop himself from looking at the ass cheeks that seemed to be dancing in front of him. For such a small girl, she had some incredible curves. But he shouldn't be thinking of that, he reminded himself. He should be thinking of

anything

but that.

"Er...I'm not sure I could really help." He said, looking at the small space between her legs. Was he seeing her pussy lips? No, it was his perverted imagination. He wondered what it would feel like if his palm cupped that very space. Would his fingertips feel the wetness as they moved over her? Would she be wet already?

"I just need you to apply some pressure on my lower back." She said then cheerfully. "Just to help push me down a bit." She paused for a moment and lowered her voice seductively. "Please, Bill, I need you."

He sighed and reluctantly lowered his book, placing it on the seat next to him. He really wasn't going to get out of this one. He shuffled over, suddenly uncertain of where to look and where he was needed. "I'm not sure what to do." He said then, feeling shy.

"Just place your hand on my lower back." She coached, trying to hide the excitement in her voice. "Then lean over with me a bit and push it down gently. It will help me stretch out my front."

Bill coughed. "So, you want me to...bend over you?"

Jasmine had to swallow her giggle before it was released and instead said breathlessly, "Yes, please."

Bill nodded and moved forwards, feeling a slight twinge in his cock the closer to her ass he got. If this was her mother, he would have ripped the yoga pants off by now, shoving his face as deep between them as he could. He couldn't handle teases like this from her, was left almost begging for mercy. He could feel himself becoming slightly harder and wanted to curse under his breath. How was he going to get away with this one? He resisted the urge to lay his hand directly on her ass and instead managed to touch the small of her back between the dimples he found so alluring, feeling an instant electric shock rush through him the moment their skin touched.

"Yes, just there." She whispered, and he could feel himself stiffen more. "Now, move closer." She then instructed. "I'll need your weight on me as you slide down me so I can slide down too."

Bill took a deep breath and did as she said, but his heart started to race the closer he got to her. Surely, she could feel his bulge between her legs?

Unbeknownst to him, Jasmine had to stop her eyes from rolling into the back of her skull at feeling his stiff cock against her.

Oh god

, she thought.

He's massive and hard for me

.

Is that what her mom got inside her?

It was difficult to not take his hand and place it on her breast then, to pounce like she so desperately wanted to. But she knew that would ruin everything. She had to take her time.

But then, as soon as it had begun, it was over, and she felt the warm hardness of Bill move away. He took a few steps back, and she swore she could hear his ragged breathing.

"I'm not sure I'm the one who should really be helping you with this." He said then, his voice nervous and shaky. "Maybe Charlie would be better at it."

"You called?" Charlie then said as he strolled into the room. "What can I help with?" His smile was cheeky and knowing, but Bill didn't seem to pick up on it at all.

"Jasmine needs help stretching," Bill said nervously. "I think maybe you should help her out."

Charlie nodded before shrugging. "Sure!" He said. "Where do you need me?"

"Can you lean over me with your hand on my lower back and just push forwards, please? It will help me to stretch." Jasmine said innocently, the seductive whisper in her voice gone.

Charlie did exactly as she was offered, even placing his other hand on her hip to help steady her. Bill felt a twinge of jealousy at seeing someone else's hands on her but shook it off, unable to believe how silly he was. It didn't seem strange to either of them that Jasmine be touched like that, and he suddenly felt so stupid for taking it so seriously. Charlie massaged her back a little as he continued to slide down, and Jasmine laughed out her words, "That's perfect!"

"No worries." Charlie said as he leaned back and stepped away, Jasmine standing up next to him, craning her neck muscles with a smile. She picked up her yoga mat and then went to the garden to continue her routine, finding a sunny spot away from the shade.

Bill sat back down and picked up his book, hoping to forget about the whole thing, but Charlie soon sat next to him. "I'm surprised you didn't make the most of that." Charlie said then, surprising Bill.

"What do you mean?" He asked, confused.

Charlie snorted then. "I mean, look at her." His eyebrows raised. "She's hot as hell."

Bill blinked a few times and looked back down at his book. "That is your stepsister, Charlie." He said, unable to say anything else, instead shocked by the conversation.

Charlie smiled and nudged him. "I don't hear you disagreeing."

Bill swallowed and refused to look up. "All I'm saying," Charlie continued, "Is that she's hot, and she wanted you to bend over her...no one would blame you for taking that shot. In fact...some would even encourage it." He then got up the seat and left the room as quickly as he came, leaving Bill alone in the room. Hoping the seed was planted.

Bill's eyes flicked out to the garden where he could see Jasmine continuing with her yoga, he could see her breasts rise and fall with her deep breathing. He swore he could see the outline of her nipples against the material. He could feel his cock stiffen again and decided to carry on reading his book in a minute. Any minute now.

The next day, Bill found himself disappointed by Jasmine's outfit. She was wearing a long cardigan that didn't give away any hint of her figure, shrouding her like a cloak. It made his heart drop when he first saw it, having been surprised that morning by looking forward to seeing another one of her classic athleisure outfits, excited at the thought of her bending down, the soft roundness of her ass on display. Without ever meaning to, over the last few days, he had begun to fantasize about her, and he liked to pretend that she didn't wear underwear underneath these skimpy outfits. And he was right.

Jasmine had thoroughly enjoyed the play of it all over the last couple of weeks, loving the way she knew Bill's eyes would be locked on her every movement. She liked to bend down to tie her shoelaces, even if they were tight enough as it is, to lean over him, pushing her chest up against his face, brushing her erect nipples through lacy bralettes against his cheek as she reached for something just behind him. She liked the thrill of parading herself around him, never quite knowing how long he was going to be able to hold out, to control himself, to enjoy the show and keep his hands to himself. And then she liked pushing it further and further, waiting for the moment that he would snap, that he couldn't wait any longer, that he would grab her and squeeze her and fuck her. He hadn't done it yet, but she knew that it would be just a matter of time.

As Bill watched her walk around the room, he couldn't help but imagine what was underneath her cardigan. Would it be a little dress so thin that it would be transparent in the sunlight? Or maybe, and he smiled inwardly when he thought this, the cardigan was just a ruse. Maybe she was naked underneath it, after all, a little surprise for him to find out if he ever grew the courage to slip his hands underneath the material to squeeze whatever was hiding. Then, just as he was starting to drive himself mad with the ideas swirling around in his head, whirring himself into a frenzy, she looked behind her up at him, their eyes met, and he felt something deep within him stir, as if his body knew what he wanted from her even before his thoughts had even caught up with him.

"I'm going to have a shower." He then spluttered out, leaving the room as quickly as he could. The moment he was upstairs, naked with the hot water running down him, he felt himself losing control again. He imagined seeing her body exposed entirely to him, her little pink dress floating around her skin, reaching higher and higher above him. He couldn't help but think of how they would spend the morning together if she was with him in the bathroom. Of that ass in the shower, soapy, covered in suds, bent forwards, her breasts pressed against the glass, his cock thrusting into her from behind. Her hands would be clambering for something to hold onto, hair messy in his grip, her head pulled back so he could see her moan as clearly as he could hear it. He knew she wasn't a virgin. Her mother had told him that - a way of showing how modern they were, how western. It was when She had been unsure of a relationship with an American man. But, there were things he could teach her. He wanted to experience that moment right now. Go downstairs to grab that ass and push it up against his crotch, to push her over so her hands were reaching the floor and fuck her right here, that cardigan stained with the bleach of his cum. He wanted to see her lose control over her body, her senses. He wanted to be the one in control.

But then he felt himself orgasm, his cum spilling out onto the tiled floor, and he pressed his forehead up against the cool glass. Anita was going to be away for the next few days. How on earth would he cope?

The first evening that Bill was alone with the kids, Charlie suggested a movie night between the three of them. Bill had jumped at the idea, being glad to not have an evening alone in his room but also fearful of what would happen if he was somehow left alone with Jasmine. He didn't want to think about it, didn't even want it to be a possibility.

He'd allowed Charlie to pick the film, thinking it would be some mindless action flick as always. He'd been correct that it had been some big-budget film, but it was more adult than he had expected. There was a scene where two of the characters started getting intimate, and Bill suddenly became hyper-aware that he was between Charlie and Jasmine. As usual, she was wearing a skimpy little bralette, her luscious breasts pressed up against the thin, lacey material to show her nipples - dark brown and pert. He had to stop himself from looking at her constantly, knowing it would only get him excited. She wore thin little running shorts too, and he refused himself to daydream about what was underneath them, leaning over to Charlie a little more. But the more sexual the scene got, the longer the kisses and the more explicit the grabbing, Jasmine leaned on him a little, resting her head on his shoulder. If this week had been like any other, he wouldn't have thought anything of it, but now it was driving him crazy. The man on the screen was now grabbing the breast of the girl, his fingers playing with her nipples through her t-shirt, and Bill found himself suddenly jumping up from the sofa.

"Ice cream." He said then. "I'll get us ice cream." Then, he left the room without even looking at Charlie and Jasmine reactions. They both had seen his obvious erection and shared a conspiratorial grin.

He handed them both their cones from the freezer when he came back and immediately regretted his decision. He watched the way Jasmine's lips curled around the ice cream, how she sucked the melting drops into her mouth, slurping as she did so. He'd given her vanilla, so the white drops dribbling down her chin stirred him, and he felt himself getting more excited.

"Oh shit!" she said, having dropped some of her ice cream onto her top, right onto her breast. The cream was cold, and her nipple started to harden underneath, the brown of her nipple pushing against the cotton. Bill wanted to throw the ice-cream to the ground, rush her and squeeze her breasts in his hand right then and there. He wanted to suck on the nipple through the cloth, wetting the fabric with his saliva and making her drip from underneath her tiny shorts. He wanted to have her in his mouth, in his hands. He wanted her to fall to the floor for him. But instead, he watched her wipe the cream from her breast, each brush of her hand against the bralette causing her breasts to bounce in place.

Charlie looked between the two of them and smiled knowingly before fake yawning. "Thanks for the ice cream, Bill." He said then, forcing Bill's face to turn towards his. "I think I'm going to take mine upstairs though, I've got a big day tomorrow."

Bill nodded, having to resist the urge to beg him to stay. The moment Charlie was gone, he picked up the remote and changed the channel. "Let's save the rest of the film for when he's back." He said quietly, desperately wanting the sexual scenes off the screen. Okay, great, he thought, as a horror movie started playing. This is better. Jasmine thought so as well, remembering what that had led to with Charlie.

With every scary scene, she crept closer to Bill, snuggling herself up against him, enjoying the feel of his warm body up against hers. She could feel that he was hesitant to let her come close, but she didn't give him any choice in the matter, hiding her face in his shoulder when the killer came on the screen and wrapping her arms around him whenever the opportunity arose. Despite his silence, she could see a growing bulge in the lap of his crotch, a sure sign that her magic was working. She wasn't wearing any underwear beneath her shorts, deciding that going more natural would work better in her favour. It did mean that she could feel the moisture of her excitement dampening her seat, but she didn't care. And once Bill realised how desperately she wanted him, he wouldn't either.