I never did figure out what they saw that day. I can only assume it was everything since I knew they were watching and peeking at the beginning. The thought of the two 18-year-old girls watching me pleasure myself is still, to this day, arousing, even though so much has happened since.
In the days and weeks that followed, I thought, but was never sure, that the laughing and whispering was sometimes in reference to what they saw. I felt that they looked at me a little differently, a little knowingly, but was that just my imagination?
I worried also that they may have told Emily's mom; not that she'd be concerned about me jacking off, in fact I often did that for her. It is one of our 'games', but she'd have been less than impressed that I was not more careful about when and where, and that not only her daughter, but her daughter's best friend would have seen.
The one thing I was sure of though was that the teasing continued, and I have little doubt that at least some of it was deliberate. Emily would, as she had for so long, wear those loose t-shirts, or the tight ones, and be quite unabashed as she went about her business around the house. It seemed almost a daily event that I'd see her doing something that I saw as teasing like her 'bouncing' down the stairs in that happy, gleeful way a teenage girl moves where, with every skip of every step her breasts would jiggle and bounce in that tantalizing way.
I was convinced that this was a teasing game; our conversation was normal, about the everyday things, but there was this parallel communication, this deliberate tease; she was showing off, she was deliberately moving that way. She sexily grabbed a boob or pushed her chest out and all the time knew I was looking at her, knew that this was turning me on, knew that she was teasing me.
She knew I was looking and she knew that I knew she was teasing, yet it continued with the innocent overtones of normal interaction.
There were many times where this teasing seemed so calculated. One, again on the stairs, was where she took advantage of the view I had while she was coming up the stairs. This happened several times but on this day she called, "Rob, will you be able to take me to school tomorrow?" as she started up the stairs.
"Of course," I replied.
Our conversation continued, about the goings on at school. As we chatted she walked up the stairs one slow step at a time. I leaned on the rail and watched as we talked. Each step, and every unnecessary movement on the way, was designed to give me a view of what she knew I liked looking at. The bending over to touch her feet, the stretching out of her arms in that 'I'm so tired' way or the arching of her back all was, I'm sure, made to give me a view of her tits, a full view down that shirt to those delicious handfuls and hard little nipples, or the sight of them pressed hard into that tight shirt.
There was one day, a weekend morning, that Emily and her friend Amy were helping out with some cleaning. They were both mopping the floor and as always, dressed in those shirts. Each with a mop, one of those Swiffer things, they cleaned the floor and did so enthusiastically, mopping quickly and working hard to get the stubborn dirt off.
You can likely imagine the joy this brought me: two girls with their tits dangling and moving around in rhythm to their efforts, trying so hard to escape from the loose off-the-shoulder tee shirts. Much to my amusement, Emily's boob fell out three times, and each time she'd shuffle the shoulder back up only for it to quickly work itself off again. I so wanted to touch them, to feel that soft warm skin and the hard little nipple, and gently squeeze and hold that gorgeous breast.
Amy, on the other hand seemed to be having less trouble, perhaps because her tits were smaller and less prone to develop momentum from the work, but just because they weren't falling out didn't mean they were less enticing. I could see clearly how sexy hers were.
Unlike Emily who had large breasts with a definite weight to them, Amy's were tighter to her body, firmer I'd imagine, and very 'teenage', very pert. I watched her move and was enthralled at the view of those long athletic legs, that lovely skin tone and those sneak views of her tits. I tried to imagine her doing it naked, mopping the floor, and what her butt would look like and her pussy; would she shave it at her age or would it have the lovely wispy soft hair?
The very next week my wife was away on business and I was at home with the kids. Emily's brother was gone most of the time, off very early to school and consumed with activities; 'the teenage lodger' we called him. This left me with the possibility of creating a scene, perhaps pushing my earlier attempts to the next level, and I did.
The kids bathroom was, as I've mentioned before, down the hall from the master bedroom and if the doors were open there was a full view to the closets and the bathroom door in the master bedroom. This was the crux of my plan which was helped by the fact that each morning Emily had the same routine.
As she got ready for school she would be back and forth from her room to her bathroom, dressed in a bra and jeans, or sometimes even just bra and panties, while she brushed her hair, or her teeth, or did her make-up. She did all of this without closing her bathroom door. Sometimes I'd see her intently looking in the mirror and other times she'd be looking straight into my room.
So, on this morning I decided to push the teasing a different way and give her a full view of me. I heard the signs that she was doing her bathroom things, so I got out of bed naked with a hard cock. I have quite a large cock, about 8 or 8 1/2 inches, nicely thick with a gentle curve and a well proportioned head. When, as it was this morning, it's that 'rock-solid' hard, it bounces in front of me and, even though I say so myself, looks quite magnificent.
I went to the closet and acted as though I was looking for something. I caught a glimpse of Emily doing her bathroom things through my wide open door, but she looked like she was looking in her mirror and so would, at best, only see me in the corner of her eye.
I continued searching through my closet knowing that any second she'd see me. Without the ability to watch her watch me I had to be satisfied with just the slightest of glimpses, but she did see. I caught the movement of her away from the mirror and motions that signaled her change of her position, then what seemed to be her freezing, standing still. I sneaked a peek and yes, she was standing there staring at me with an expression that was not shock, not horror, not amusement, perhaps intrigue.
I couldn't really tell and couldn't really look, but what I could do was stay there, keep looking for that illusive shirt and casually stroke my hard cock. And I did. I did for what seemed like an eternity but was probably only fifteen seconds, but fifteen seconds of staring at your step-dad's naked body and hard cock, fifteen seconds of jerking your cock in front of your step daughter, fifteen seconds of pretending to not know she was there, that was a long time.
Wow, you know that shot of adrenaline feeling, the intensity and shaking? That was me when I stepped into the bathroom.
That evening Emily and I went out to dinner. With just the two of us, and no Mom and brother, we decided that we didn't want to cook and a quick trip to our local Carrabagarden Italian would be nice.
The conversation was normal, the usual fun things we talk about; school, friends, clothes, the teenage girl things but unusually. Emily talked a lot about boys, about her friends and about the things her friends were doing with boys. She mentioned that some of the girls were sleeping with their boyfriends, talked of the other sexual things that were going on and shared a little of her viewpoint.
