The creak of the bed frame hitting the wall let me know what my father and stepmother were up to. I don't know what type of insulation the builder used but it did little to shield my ears from the unmistakable sounds coming from the bedroom next door. In fairness to the builders, my stepmother Jennifer was generally a loud individual normally and getting fucked didn't quiet her.
I don't want to give the impression that I had my ear pressed to the door or to the wall, in order to hear something that was definitely not meant for me to hear.
"Come on, Steve," she moaned, her voice sending a shiver down my spine. She could have been a voice actress in another life. "Please, for me."
My father's voice sounded strangely uncomfortable, not the usual firm voice that I was accustomed to. Certainly not the voice of the man who ran and owned the most successful car dealership in North California. "No, Jennifer," he said, his voice firm but tinged with frustration. "We've already discussed this."
Discussed what? Normally their sex life was something that I heard and perhaps masturbated about. I must admit that I had fantasized about having sex with her the moment I laid eyes on her. I remember the first time I saw her at the dealership. I was doing my homework in the lobby after school. It was close to closing and I was ready to get out of there. My father didn't want me left alone at home after mom passed.
"Excuse me, where is Steve," a woman asked?
I looked up and found myself tongue tied. It was funny that I was reading the Iliad for class because when I looked up it felt like I was staring at Helen of Troy. She had a face that could launch a thousand ships. Jennifer was the type of woman who could make washing the dishes look erotic. It sounds pathetic but if you saw her in her sweat pants and a hoodie you would have understood. Sweatpants hugged her butt and when she took off the hoodie you gotta see her breasts spill out in abundance. She didn't need ass or boobs, but God spoiled her anyway because heaven forbid a man resist her charms. She always left me tongue tied and on that first day that I had met her I could only point towards my father's office as this beautiful angel walked away my eyes gorged on her turned back. I always enjoyed staring at her ass because then I didn't need to be as discreet.
If you wanted to knock her for one thing she was religious. Not pushy religious, but she did wear a crucifix that you would sometimes catch her sucking on when she was thinking. God I wish I could have been Jesus swirling around in her mouth.
Back in my room through the wall I could hear them talking. "Please," she asked. She would have made a good car saleswoman, her tone soft, pleading. I hadn't ever seen her naked but I figured having her tits in your face didn't make her easier to reject. "Sometimes trying something new can be fun. When was the last time that we tried to spice things up."
There was a rustling sound, likely shifting positions in bed. My imagination ran wild, picturing them wrapped in tangled sheets, the dim light filtering through the curtains casting shadows over their intertwined bodies.
"Jennifer," my father answered slowly, maybe because his resolve was beginning to waver. "I don't feel comfortable doing that."
"You don't understand," she whispered, her voice barely audible now, thick with desperation. "It's not about that. It's about us. About feeling alive again."
A pause hung in the air, tense and heavy. I could hear the soft rustle of fabric as they moved, the subtle creaks of the bed frame under their weight. My own breath caught in my throat, anticipation building.
"You're asking for too much," my father finally said, his voice quieter, more vulnerable. "I can't do it."
A sob escaped my stepmom's lips, small and broken. "Don't you want me to be happy?" she asked, her voice trembling. "Don't you want to make me feel good?"
"Of course I do," he responded quickly, his tone softening. "But not like this."
"Then what? Tell me what I have to do to make you see," she pleaded, her voice rising slightly, filled with raw emotion. "Tell me how to make you understand."
Another pause, longer this time, filled with unspoken words and lingering tension. My grip on my blanket tightened, knuckles white, as I for the first time did have my ears up against the wall.
"Jennifer," my father began, his voice hesitant. "Maybe we should talk about this later."
"Later?" she echoed, her voice incredulous. "When? When will there be a better time? We're here now, and I need you to listen to me."
"I am listening," he insisted, though his tone lacked conviction. "But I can't just... change my mind because you ask me to."
The bed creaked again, louder this time, as if they were both sitting up, facing each other. The tension in the room was so thick I could almost touch it.
"Then show me," she demanded, her voice hardening. "Show me that you care. Show me that you're still the man I married."
"I'm not dealing with you anymore, I need to get to work," the bed shook but this time from my father's body mass getting off the bed.
When we had breakfast as a family I pretended that I hadn't overheard anything, but honestly I didn't think either of them noticed me. I could tell that Jennifer was fuming at being denied.The only one oblivious to the contention was Jimbo, my dog who wagged his tail happily. Jennifer made some remark about chores that I was supposed to do around the house and I nodded as my father rushed out to the office without a word and that left the house to just the two of us.
I know what your thinking comes next. Jennifer bent over to pick up the fork and she wasn't wearing panties so I could see everything or she said that we had to ride a motorcycle and my big penis slipped right into her as we ran a red light and died in an explosive accident. Unfortunately I don't know how to ride a motorcycle and my penis is a very ordinary five inch and three quarters, but sometimes I tell women it's six inches because I try and live a little dangerously. Also Jennifer wasn't really klutzy and she wasn't constantly dropping things or getting stuck in laundry machines. Which was why I was so fascinated and intrigued as to what she had asked my father to do in bed with her that morning.
She wore a Crucifix everyday. How wild can a girl like that be?! God I hoped she was asking for a threesome that involved me, but somehow I didn't think that was the request. What the fuck was it! How dirty could it possibly be? I briefly considered maybe that my father was against something vanilla like oral sex or something, but I decided that fantasizing about this wasn't likely to give me an answer so ultimately it was pointless.
We lived in a big house. I don't want to brag, but women like Jennifer don't marry guys who live in trailer parks so it was easy to keep our distance from each other. Jennifer would do yoga out in the backyard to be one with nature or something, I would have loved to watch her go through positions, but I knew I had to keep my pervy nature in check. I sometimes did go out to the top balcony and see her contorted in a red sports bra and matching yoga pants, but I didn't bring a pair of binoculars. I tried to pretend that she wasn't the hottest piece of ass on God's green earth when we were in the same room. The reality of having a really attractive stepmom is you end up being pretty blue balled.
If I could have signed a piece of paper to take away the effect of my stepmother I would have signed it in a second. She was my father's wife and I loved my father. The problem was that my Dick wanted to fuck her and had a mind of its own, the consequences be damned. My Dick was in a porn movie but my brain understood there is a reason pornos don't show the family going out to eat after an hour of incest.
So that's why my decision to go into my parents room was so reckless. While she was outside increasing her pliability I was inside my parents room snooping. See the thing was Jennifer kept a journal. Sometimes she would sit out by the pool and write her thoughts down. Was this a massive invasion of privacy, you betcha, would I have been punished beyond belief if I was caught, yep, but horniness and curiosity were controlling my actions. As I rifled through my parents room I tried to keep quiet.
Over their bed hung a painting of Hylas and the Nymphs by John William Waterhouse.. It was a copy, not original. My family was car dealership rich not buying masterpieces from Europe rich. It was brought into the house on Jennifer's bidding when she moved in. It illustrated a scene from Greek mythology where Hylas, a companion of Hercules, is lured to his death by topless water nymphs.
As I snuck into the room I felt like Hylas, cautiously leaning towards the water as the nymphs surrounded him, their feminine beauty emerging from the lily-covered pond. Men know that there is danger in drowning but you want to see what lies underneath danger be damned. In some ways I pitied Hylas because I understand why he drowned. The nymphs are just so ethereal and magical, their pale, luminous skin and cascading hair emphasizing their supernatural beauty. Each of their expressions ranged from seductive to somehow even more seductive, and Hylas never stood a chance.
Everywhere I looked I was coming up empty. There was one last place that I hadn't checked, the drawers. I opened them and found something that caught my interest. There in her underwear drawer was something that caught my eye. In the back of the drawer tucked away was a vibrator. If the size of the vibrator was any sense into the preference that my stepmother held then she liked them big. I touched the object of my envy and for a second contemplated if God would have let me switch places would I take it. Perhaps if I went to church with Jennifer I would know. I grabbed one of her red thongs and put it into my mouth. Tasting the silk, but wishing it was her silky skin.
"YOU HAVE GOT TO BE FUCKING ME!" my stepmother screamed at the top of her lungs.
My heart jumped out of my chest. It took me half a second to realize that she wasn't in the room, but had entered inside. I spat out the thong and put it back into the drawer. Maybe it wasn't my fault, maybe it was something that didn't involve me. I ran out of her room though as quickly as I could.
"MAX!" she continued yelling, slamming the door behind her and coming into the house.
It definitely involved me. But there was no way she could have known that moments before I was in her room, invading her privacy.
"What's the matter," I asked, trying to sound calm.
"What? WHAT? Take a wild guess!" she yelled, holding up her foot off the ground.
"Oh," I said, realizing immediately what I had done wrong. I let out a smile out of relief, she didn't know that I had been perving out in her room moments ago. The smile however seemed to set her off.
