Sophie knew it was wrong to want him. But that just seemed to make her want him more.
He'd been in her life since before the dawn of her sexuality. At first she hated him. Not him exactly, but how her mum was around him. So doting, and so keen for Sophie to like him - it was pathetic. Looking back, Sophie could see how typical her behaviour was -what a cliche the whole thing had been.
She could also see that what Max had brought into their lives was joy. It had been a long, dark few years, and the change that Sophie saw in her mum, that angered her at first, was happiness itself. She had started singing again, like Sophie remembered from a dim and distant childhood far away, and taking care over her appearance.
Her mum was pretty, Sophie knew, and as she got older herself she was jealous of her mum's large breasts, and later pleased to find she had started to take after her. She had the same curly blonde hair that fell like a mane until tamed with bands or clips, and the same clear blue eyes. Her dad had joked when she was little that she was a clone - he'd called her Dolly the sheep and bleated like a sheep and played with her curls. That was long ago. Max was very different from her dad. Max was here, for one thing.
She'd watched for years how her mum seemed to purr with pleasure and excitement when Max took her in his arms - if he didn't know Sophie was nearby he would squeeze her mum's arse and she'd press herself against him. Once she saw her reach out and stroke the bulge in his jeans. Sophie stayed awake listening that night and thought she could hear her mum's singing, except there were no words and there was a percussive banging that kept changing rhythm.
Max ran a landscaping company and was still very much involved - he looked strong and youthful, and he had a way of turning his attention to something completely that made Sophie melt and stutter. She thought of it as 'full beam', and as a younger girl she had always felt very special when he did it - helping with homework at the kitchen table. (By that time she had allowed herself to let him try and win her approval).
These days, the thrill of his full beam was still there for Sophie, but she felt it between her legs. She thought she could tell that it was different for him too now, that he was trying to restrain a tiger in his mind - the one with the sparkling eyes and the wandering hands that made her mum go all girly.
He had the same effect on Sophie's school friends, who gigglingly called him big Max when they spoke about him, which was often.
"I had another dream about big Max," announced Ellie to the other girls one time.
"Are you sure it was a dream, or were you actually awake and getting busy with Little Max?"
It had been such a recurring theme among the group that they had decided that Ellie's vibrator was to be called Little Max. She was the only girl to be so openly proud of owning one, and it cropped up a lot in conversation.
"Well, he may have gotten involved... But only after I woke up and big Max wasn't really there." Ellie giggled and blushed.
Sophie laughed along with them and had to pretend she was fine with it, but she did find their obsession silly. Max wouldn't be interested in giggling girls - he was besotted with her mum, who was subtle with her sexuality but held herself confidently. Sophie was sure she kept Max coming back for more. And if Max were looking for a younger girl, Sophie caught herself thinking, she wouldn't let him near Ellie and her stupid vibrator!
That afternoon Sophie returned to an empty house. She was a keen gymnast and she was happily worn out after a long session of practice, eager to wash the chalk from her hands and the sweat from her skin.
The hot running water drumming down on her felt good, easing her tense muscles, and as she soaped her pussy she let her fingertips dwell there. She thought of Max's hands pulling down her mum's tights, bending her over in the kitchen. She tried to picture his cock - it was huge in her imagination. He pushed it into her mum, fucking her hard until she came in her sing song moans, her big tits bouncing. All the while, his eyes were fixed on Sophie's - full beam - as she stood there watching.
Sophie was biting her lip and her knees were trembling as she imagined offering herself to him, bending over the kitchen table where he'd helped her write stories, watching him approach her with his dick still wet and slippery with her mum's cum.
She was on the edge of orgasm when she heard the real Max call out a hello from the kitchen. She felt guilty, and stopped, although all her nerve endings were screaming for her to continue - to jam as many fingers as she could up into her sopping wet cunt and take herself over the edge.
She looked at herself in the slightly steamed-up mirror, wondering if she looked sexy. She pinched her nipples a bit to stiffen them. People had been saying her whole life how much she looked like her mum. She thought she remembered though that people used to say she looked like her dad as well, and they had stopped saying that after he left. So perhaps it was just something people said. Certainly she had the same wild blonde hair and ocean blue eyes. And she tanned just as easily, so in the mirror her white skin on the parts that saw no sun stood out. She felt that it looked silly, but wasn't sure how she could sunbathe topless.
Her breasts were smaller, although only slightly these days, and she was leaner in general.
She left the bathroom wrapped in a towel, and almost crashed straight into Max, who was stomping through the corridor, himself just back from the gym.
"Oh...Sorry!" Max seemed flustered to be at such close quarters with her when she had only a towel on, stepping back like he'd seen a ghost.
"Sorry Max, all yours," Sophie said, making off down the corridor and feeling that the towel was really quite short, and that perhaps his eyes were following her and on her long legs. She glanced back as she turned to enter her room, and he looked sheepish and disappeared quickly into the bathroom. She wished she had let herself finish masturbating. She suddenly wondered if he would be doing that now, and desperately wanted to see it.
Back in her bedroom, she let her hand slip between her legs and her fingers came away with a crystal slick of her excitement. She tried to push from her mind the thought of her step dad grunting and pounding her from behind against the chest of drawers she was now reaching into for some knickers.
She pulled on some yoga pants and a faded old white t-shirt that her breasts had slightly outgrown. It stretched over them and she wore it bra-less. The look said 'This is my home and I'm going to be comfortable' loud and clear, but as she glanced in her bedroom mirror and gave her hair a flick, she could see it also had a fair helping of 'fuckable teen tease' as well.
Max always showered quickly and he was already busy in the kitchen getting some things together for dinner, his black hair still wet. Sophie watched silently for a few seconds as he concentrated on chopping onions.
"What can I help with? Give me a task," Sophie offered, striding into the room.
Max started slightly and glanced round. Sophie thought she saw his eyes widen a little at her appearance.
"Oh, Hi Sophie! You could grate a huge pile of cheese if you like? That would be great. I'm making tacos."
"Yum," Sophie replied, taking up position beside him after fetching the cheese.
"What time is mum due back?"
Louise worked in sales for a big pharmaceuticals firm and occasionally had to travel for meetings - she had spent the afternoon visiting a customer in the North.
"Dinner time, hopefully," Max said. Sophie noticed him noticing her nipples. She felt them notice it too. "She said she was about 45 minutes away."
