"Do you want me to bring you anything, Bob?" My stepdaughter's voice called from the kitchen where she was finishing the dinner dishes.
"Oh, sure. I can use another beer, Honey," I answered. We were on our own for a week while her mother was across the country for a seminar. Lucille had been a part of my life since shortly after her mother and I got married the year before. She hadn't wanted to leave her dad at first. But when she realized what a deadbeat he was, she reluctantly allowed her mother to relocate her. They had been living on those instant oriental noodles -- which are great for a quick lunch, but not as a main dish three times a day.
At our house, on the other hand, I do all the cooking. Both Lucille and her mom are what could be termed "voluptuous". In other words, they are overweight. But they are fairly comfortable with themselves and so am I. I'm old enough to have gotten past the social conditioning that says thin is sexy. Thin is sexy. But so is fat, if the woman inside the body is sexy. So, they are both much happier eating steaks, chicken marsala, and other well prepared balanced meals than ramen noodles.
Lucille entered with a beer for me. She had a funny grin on her face (and the other hand behind her back,I noticed). "All right. What's up?" I demanded, ready to be set up for something.
She brought her hidden hand out to reveal an unopened bottle of one of those malt beverages that have become popular lately. "Can I have this?" she asked, a hopeful expression on her face. I know it's illegal to give an eighteen-year-old booze, but we were at home and she wasn't going anywhere.
"Okay. But just one, okay? Don't even ask for more." Her mother lets her have one so I figured it would be okay. Lucille and her mom have a kind of unusual relationship. They don't get along all that well, but Lucille knows she can talk to her mom about anything. That her mom tells me things was how I knew Lucille had bestowed her virginity on a boy back home just before moving in with us. He turned out to be very undeserving of the gift, but that's another story. At any rate, since joining us, she had been very forthright about the lack of suitable sex partners locally. I had told her she shouldn't be too picky, since it was a small town. 'Be choosy and be careful, but don't be too picky,' was how I put it. Still, she hadn't had anything like a date.
She had two friends -- girls -- who occasionally spent the night at our house. They spent their time up in Lucille's room surfing (porn sites, no doubt) the internet and giggling. One time I overheard some vocalizations I usually associate with sexual pleasure, but I'm reluctant to jump to the conclusion that they were pleasuring each other -- no matter how much that image tried to intrude into my thoughts.
So while Lucille and I sat and watched some inane sitcom and drank together that night, I asked her, "So any guys been hitting on you?"
"Only Brendan," she made a grimace. Brendan was a moose of a guy, and twice as stupid. He had somehow gotten the idea that Lucille liked him and didn't have the pride to take 'No' for an answer. He continued to call and basically harass her to go out with him. "I'm getting worried that my hymen is going to grow back," she joked.
"Don't worry, Sweetie," I told her, reaching to take her hand. "You're leaving for college next fall. There will be a lot more guys to choose from."
"Yeah, maybe so. But I still don't know what I'm really doing in bed. I know Mom told you about Jerry. Did she tell you anything else about me sexually?"
In fact, she had. Her mom had told me that Lucille had mentioned that she liked to suck cock. But I didn't want Lucille to know I knew it. So I just said that she hadn't said anything. Lucille then proceeded to tell me that even though Jerry had been the only guy she'd had intercourse with, she had given other guys blowjobs earlier on. Pretending this was new knowledge, I asked her what she thought of that. She admitted she didn't mind it -- even liked it. She then told me something I hadn't known: that nobody had ever gone down on her. "Do many guys like to do that, Bob?"
"Hey, a lot of guys do. It's just that you haven't been with men, only boys so far. Personally, that's my favorite part of sex. The scent of a woman, all hot and musky is really an aphrodisiac to me. I think a lot of men feel that way."
She mulled this over for a while as the show ended. As I was flipping through the channels to see what was on next, she drained her bottle and rose. "I'm going to study a while then go to bed," she said, stretching. I noticed her nipples were hard when her large breasts strained against her tee-shirt. I had tried to avoid fantasizing about my stepdaughter. But the conversation and the evidence that our conversation had somehow turned her on had begun to get me going, too. She bent over and kissed me on the cheek and we said goodnight.
She had been upstairs for an hour or so when I decided it was time for me to go to bed, as well. The next day was Sunday so Lucille didn't have to be up early for school. I'd been on a medical disability for a leg condition for six months by then. I was starting to get used to the idea -- and even liked it -- that I never had to get up early for work again. I'd taken on the househusband's role and it suited me. We all did our share, but I pretty well ran the house.
Before I went to bed, I wanted to throw the last load of laundry into the washer. I descended the basement stairs and crossed to the laundry area. The plastic clothes basket was where I'd left it that afternoon. I started the washer and tossed in some detergent. As I was sorting through the clothes in the main basket, I noticed that Lucille had brought her laundry basket down and left it. She probably planned to do hers the next day. But since the last of ours was so sparse, I lifted the top of her basket and sorted through for some light colored items to fill out the load. I tossed in a couple of bras and some shirts. Then my hand fell on a pair of her panties.
I don't have a panty fetish. I'd rather see a woman out of all her clothes than in panties or any sexy lingerie. But on impulse (no doubt spurred by our earlier conversation), I brought the little light blue undies to my nose. I inhaled the musky scent of Lucille's crotch. Blowing out my breath, I repeated it. Each time the scent got stronger. It may have been the hyperventilating, but I'd rather think it was her scent that made me dizzy. I wasn't too surprised to find that smelling Lucille's dirty underwear was giving me a raging hardon! It was slightly different from her mother's, but experience has taught me that all women have a similar smell. I enjoyed this guilty pleasure for another few minutes. When the washer kicked into life beside me I came back to Earth. I dropped the panties into the water and threw a few more things in with them. I lowered the lid of the washer and mounted the stairs.
Going to our room, I shucked out of my clothes. I clicked on the TV and crossed the entryway to the bathroom. I thought about Lucille and her panties as I brushed my teeth. Somehow her scent had lingered in my senses. Under the mint-flavored toothpaste I caught the trace of woman. I rinsed and turned out the light to return to my bed.
I was laying there, the Tonight show going all but unnoticed, and reading a few pages of my book before I went to sleep. Lucille's quiet voice came from just outside the room, "Bobby? Are you still awake?" Now, I call myself 'Bob'. My wife had taken to adding the diminutive ending I'd expunged at age eleven. From her, I didn't mind it. But this was the first time Lucille had ever used it. I wasn't sure how I felt about it, or what it meant that she'd used it. I didn't acknowledge it, I just asked her what was up.
She came into the room and sat on the side of the bed usually occupied by her mother. She was wearing a pair of boxers and the tee-shirt she'd had on earlier. "Can you give me a back rub?" she asked. She and I had traded back rubs a few times over the past year. She did a good job and I'd been told I did, too. So I told her I could. The problem now, however, was that I was naked. Family nudity had been discussed between Lucille and her mom when l. first came to live with us. I tend to be pretty casual about my own nudity. But I had been fairly conscientious about remaining suitably covered whenever Lucille was around. She'd told her mom that she didn't want to see me running around the house naked. She had accidentally caught me in between bedroom and bathroom a couple of times, but didn't seem traumatized by it.
"I'd be happy to rub your back," I told her, "but that means I'll have to sit up and move around. I'm naked." I finished.
"That's okay. I've seen you naked, remember? It won't bother me." So she lay down upside down on her mother's side of the bed. I pushed the covers off and rose to a kneeling position beside her. I started to knead her shoulders and she sighed, telling me it felt good. Then she surprised me by stopping me. She lifted herself to her elbows, pulling the shirt up to her armpits. Then she slipped it off over her head before resuming her prone position. This, too, was fairly common with us. In fact, the first time I rubbed her back it had been without a top. So I just resumed the massage. She moved her arms out to extend them to her sides. The move gave me a good view of the side of her breast, mashed beneath her. All the earlier thoughts and the memory of the scent of her panties combined with my nudity and her own partial nudity. My physical response should have been predictable. My cock started to rise like a cobra from a basket. As long as she didn't turn her head, I was safe.
Just as I was circumspect about nudity with her, she usually was careful not to place herself in a position where she might sight my bare body. So I wasn't too worried that she would see me now. After all, she knew I was naked and exposed beside her. If she looked, it would be because she wanted to see.
My hands worked their magic on her tensed muscles. I moved down her back and worked around her waist. I let my fingers slip under the elastic waistband of her shorts a bit -- just playing in my mind. Then she surprised me further by reaching down and pushing the shorts halfway down her ass! My dick jumped as her round half moons were exposed. I didn't comment, but took the hint. I let my ministrations extend to encompass the top of her ass. She sighed heavily.
After about half an hour, I pronounced her finished. I punctuated it with a light slap to her bare ass cheek.
She jumped and -- amazingly -- turned to her side, facing me. In an instant she took in both my nudity and my erection. To say that I was embarrassed would be an understatement. I mumbled an apology and scrambled to get under the covers. As long as it was visible, her eyes never left my cock.
I guess the knowledge that she had caused my erection gave her reassurance or the courage to take the next step. She smiled at me and slid off the bed to a standing position, her breasts totally exposed to my gaze. Then she slipped her shorts the rest of the way off and stepped out of them. She folded back the covers and slipped under them beside me.
"Mom said I should take care of you while she was gone," she said quietly. She was laying on her side facing me, resting on one elbow. I was on my back. She reached over and ran her hand over my chest, her fingers tousling the curly hair that covered it.
