In high school I joined the millions of kids from split households. My older sister had already left for college, so she was sad when my dad walked out of our Westchester County home, but her life didn't change much. Dad was a successful investment banker, with all the trappings: money, never home, and of course affairs. Mom was devastated, naturally. Because of his income, she'd become a stay at home mom, and therefore did well in the divorce. She took a job in her old career, public relations. Her years out of the workforce, however, meant she pretty much had to start in an entry level job, which affected her self-confidence, already battered by Dad tossing her to the curb for a younger, fresher model.
As in many divorces, I stayed with my mom but visited my dad every second weekend and more time during vacations and holidays. At first I didn't look forward to those times, but after I turned eighteen I discovered that my dad, having money, had young women flocking to him in droves--women not much older than me. And these hot women, all way out of my league, put up with an amazing amount of crap to be close to my dad's wallet, if not to him. The power of money to attract hot women was eye-opening. I had heard of that, but seeing it in real life was a revelation. Moreover, wherever we went, there were always more women than dad, so I had the pick of hotties who thought they could get to my dad through me. Once I figured that out, all I had to do was boost the illusion.
Teenage heaven.
My mom, meantime, seemed to be torn. On one hand my occasional absences freed her from constraints as she sought to resurrect her love life. On the other, she said she missed me. I missed her, too, truth be told.
Her various club and gym memberships and no job obligations meant she was in superb shape--firm 38C rack, flat stomach and beautiful heart-shaped ass. To my mind, she would have been a perfect MILF model if she wanted. However, mom was a strict and strait-laced mother, firmly persuaded of what's wrong and what's right. So, despite my fantasy fodder, she made sure I understood that mom was mom, and firmly out of reach.
Visiting my dad, therefore, presented hopes more realistic, as I learned to fly under the umbrella of his wealthy bachelor lifestyle. One of the weekends I was to stay with him and his live-in du jour, Allison, he'd been invited to a party with several of his investment banker coworkers and a bevy of these hot chicks on the make. Most men were single, or acted as if they were, same with the gals. Some came from health clubs, or friends of friends, but what they all had in common was youth and hotness. The party was catered, hosted by a DJ, and held in a penthouse apartment in Manhattan with an open rooftop for dancing, eating and whatever.
At first I was intimidated by the crowd, as I, just over eighteen, was younger than everyone else. Dad simply told me Mom would never let him get away with leaving me alone in his condo, and there'd be more than enough for me to do here, so I simply got dragged along. He was right--I apparently was the only male not a hedge fund manager, broker, investment banker or an unattached guy with a bursting wallet. The women must have figured I was one of those, and since I was younger than the others, I had to be more successful, and therefore worthy of throwing themselves at. Why would I try to talk them out of such crazy delusions?
Alcohol and drugs flowed freely. Since nobody else was under drinking age, nobody thought to offer me anything else, so beer was a given. At the door to the open rooftop patio were several bowls with pills of various colors and, gasp, condoms. In passing, I slipped several condoms in my pocket. Who knew? Little ole Gunnar might get lucky, and better be prepared, right?
We'd arrived a little late to the party, so everyone else was lubed up, and loud music was beating out on the rooftop. Although not a fan of the thumping beat or the noise, I did appreciate that it rendered conversation nigh on impossible--to introvert me a godsend. Dad and Allison disappeared into the gyrating throng, leaving me by myself to sink or swim.
In less than ten minutes Barbara, a brunette model or wannabe, introduced herself and asked me to dance. Well, asked might imply spoken words, which were impossible in the din. All she did was flash her body and hold out her hand. And what a body! Slim and tall, she wore a short black stretch tube top, short black skirt, and little else, exposing acres and acres of flat tummy and legs. Flinging her body and head around, hands in the air, to the thudding beat, she flashed her prominent nipples and even her G-string as if auditioning for a spot in my next porn movie, or hoping to get a car of her own, maybe a college education paid for by a sugar daddy, or access to a fortune in the divorce. I couldn't help getting hard at her wanton flashing of her sexy body at me. Not in my wildest dreams had I imagined anything like this. Being a fringe member of the nerds, at school parties I had no shot at the cheerleader crowd or the hotties. This, though, was a radically different world. These ladies made our high school cheerleader "in-crowd" look like plodding mudhens and waddling ducks.
After a few dances, Barbara moved on to the next candidate for sugar daddy, to be replaced by Heather (I think that's what her name was), a blond health club honey bee wearing an LBD with the emphasis on the L. Like the previous honey, she, too, was slim, emaciated to perfection to quote the guy who wrote Bonfire of the Vanities. Her LBD neckline plunged to below her belly button, which she carried off with her marginally exposed taut B-cups. When she leaned forward in a dance move, she hunched her shoulders to reveal her hard nipples, and when she turned around, she backed in all the way until she made sure Little Gunnar was standing at attention and saluting her fully.
The music slowed after a few dances, and Heather plastered her lithe body to mine, arms across my neck, wide-pupil eyes gazing into mine while grinding against the steel in my slacks. Halfway through the first slow song I took a chance and started kissing her while my hands had a full grasp of her tight health club buns. Her tongue instantly invaded my mouth with determined abandon. We danced toward a dark spot at the edge of the rooftop where the owner had dragged his mini-forest of potted shrubs and trees to clear space for the dance floor. After a few more songs of vertical making out, Heather seemed ready for more action, and what horndog would deny her? My hands drifted below the hem of her skirt and groped their way up the back of her thighs to her, gasp, naked toned ass. No panties! I sank two fingers into her shaved treasure and they slid in with no resistance. Our tongues kept dueling and her body began undulating as her first orgasm overtook her.
I led her in the darkness to the roof's railing, turned her over it and, after rolling on a condom, slid my steel into her. She was so wet I slid in all the way in one thrust. Her hands stretched along the railing and her slender body bounced off it as I pounded into her, still shaking my head in surprise. Remembering something I'd seen on a porn video, I grabbed her hair and pulled her head backwards. Her mouth was wide open and her eyes closed as she surrendered to her passion. After fucking her for several heavenly minutes, her pussy spasmed around me, and as I spurted into the condom, her eyes rolled back into her head and she collapsed on the railing. For a moment I feared she might topple over, so I pulled her back and lay her on one of the plastic chaise lounges parked in a corner.
Holy shit. I wondered if the gal was high on something, just drunk, or both. We hardly even knew each other's names.
I needed a drink, so I left her there to give her some space to recover in privacy and went back inside. Armed with a fresh cold beer, I headed back out to the roof when I almost ran over Allison, my dad's girlfriend. She sat in a corner, head in her hands and tears running rivers down her cheeks. I sat next to her and put my arms around her shoulders. "Hey, Allie, what's the matter?"
When she saw it was me, she fell on my chest and grabbed my hand. "Your dad just fucked Brandi right before my eyes, like I wasn't even there."
"Come, let's get away from the crowd." I took my stepmother's hand and wandered inside, in search of some privacy and a little less noise. I opened a door, but closed it when I saw a girl being spit roasted with her minimal clothes still on. Three doors down, the room was empty. How many bedrooms did this apartment have? I shook my head--my dad lived in a world I had no clue existed. Anyway, I lay down on the queen sized bed and tapped my chest. Allie lay down next to me, put her head on my chest and continued bawling, eventually slowing down to mere sobs. So, these hot little bimbos had feelings. Imagine.
I held her and patted her back gently. What else was I to do? It's not like she was my girlfriend or anything. When the sobbing subsided, my stepmother lifted her head. "Do you think he's done with me? Or is this just a one-party fling?"
I shook my head. "I have no idea. You have to remember, I knew him as a husband and father for 18 years. In that time, I have no idea if he had any affairs or not. Our first sign was when he walked in one day and said he's outta there.
"But let me ask you this. Even if it is a one-party fling, how do you feel about it? You have to know if he does it once and you take him back, he'll do it again."
"You're right. Thank you for being honest with me." She settled back on my chest and I kissed her forehead. She lifted her head again, this time with fire in her eyes. "You know, fuck him. If I mean that little to him, then fuck him." Then, to my shock, she leaned forward and kissed me on my lips. Her tongue parted my lips before I could catch my breath.
Being as red-blooded as the next guy, I let my hands cup her thong-clad ass as my tongue joined that party with all the gusto I could muster. We rolled over 'til she lay on her back. To test how serious she was, I took one hand and cupped her breast.
She only moaned and kissed me harder. I squeezed her breast and pinched her nipple, and got an even stronger response. Was this girl looking for a revenge fuck? Well, okay. What's the worst that could happen?
While still kissing, I let my hand drop to her naked thigh and slid it up slowly under the hem of her skirt. Again, the only response was her spreading her legs as wide as she could. For panties she had on a minuscule little thing, more like a G-string. I rubbed over it, sliding my hand over her clit and her parting lips. More moans. This was happening. My wildest day, with no warning.
Still kissing like crazy, I slipped two fingers past the almost non-existent string of floss and into her now-slippery pussy. No pubic hair. I idly wondered if any women under thirty still had hair there. Focusing back on the task at hand, I buried my fingers and began stroking in and out.
Her moans turned louder, and she broke our kiss to start giving me instructions. "Almost there, Gunnar. Yes! Like that! So good... Faster. I'm... aaaaaaaaah, fuuuuuuuck!! Shuddering repeatedly, she came. Her body vibrated like five thousand volts were coursing through her.
As she came down, she looked at me. "Thank you, my friend. I really needed that. But you didn't get anything out of it. Fuck me. Take off my panties. I want to feel that big stick of yours in me. Help me get over your sonofabitch dad; make me yours."
I wasn't sure I wanted her to be mine, but whatever, no way I was passing on pussy. Grabbing another condom, I slipped off my pants and underwear and rolled it on. Then I got rid of my other clothes, rolled between the legs of this horny hottie stepmom and simply fucked her. Unlike the more passive Heather earlier, Allie was alive. It was almost as if she was venting her anger by fucking me from below. She pounded upward angrily, matching me thrust for thrust, grunting and chanting all the way.
In less than five minutes, she got into another vibrating orgasm, but I just kept pounding. After my earlier peak with Heather, I knew I was going to last. And I did. I pounded Allie through two more climaxes, until I finally came again.
She literally wilted as she came down. Between exhaustion and the misery of being dumped, she wilted like a flower.
I pulled out and gently kissed her. "Allie, he doesn't deserve you. Move on. You're beautiful and young. Guys will line up around the block to have a chance with you. Thank you for a wonderful evening together."
Tears formed in her eyes and she hugged me. "Thank you, Gunnar. You are a wonderful young man. I know you'll find the right woman, and when you find her I know you will treat her right. Thank you for indulging a jilted slut."
"Allie, you're anything but a slut. I think you're an awesome woman. Where are you gonna go tonight?"
"I don't know, I haven't thought about it."
