The Stepfather

This is an entirely fictional story of consensual adult incest. If such a topic upsets you then please go somewhere else.

My mother married another man in 1985. I was furious. He was everything my father wasn't. He was nice, caring, let me do what I wanted. You would normally think that this is a great thing, but I wasn't crazy about him because he never really talked to me. He just watched as I went about my business, silently. Commenting every so often. My mother was crazy about him. Don't get me wrong, Tony is a nice man, but he looks at me. He watches me in a way sometimes that makes me feel funny. He will look at me if I'm sitting in front of the television, if I'm listening to music in the living room, or when I get out of the shower. I can feel his eyes on me. It makes me hot but I don't know why. I don't know whether I'm embarrassed or secretly impressed at his smooth talk, the way he doesn't seem to care about anything. He was so easygoing it made you feel strange. He wasn't like you would expect, he didn't try to tell me what to do, he just observed. He never knew me when I was younger. I had always played the piano and whenever I do ever since he moved in he has sat and watched me play. I once complained to my mother that he never complimented me on anything. "He's just not very vocal when it comes to telling you how he feels" she would tell me, brushing it off lightly. It's funny when people just stare at you, though. When you don't know what someone is thinking.

I'm twenty two now. I work for a law firm but spend a lot of time completing and reviewing my paperwork at home. Tony, my stepfather works at a university but doesn't have to be in every day. I would sit and work in my room and he would work in his private study. Sometimes he would come in and try to strike up a conversation with me about something relatively benign, like the weather, to which I usually replied with a two word answer. I didn't exactly give him an easy time, but why should I? He is my mother's business, not mine.

One day I was working out in my room to my Jane Fonda workout video and he passed by, which went unnoticed by me until I turned round once more to meet his eyes, roving up my legs in my tight outfit. He had been standing there. How long had he been standing there?

"What did you want?" I asked. He shook his head, a slight smile pulling at the side of his mouth, a suppressed smirk creeping across his lips.

"You don't look much like your mother, you know" he said, leaning against the doorframe.

"Thanks" I replied. What was that supposed to mean? I wondered.

"You're a funny little thing, really" he paused, as if he was going to say something else, but he didn't. He turned around on his heel and walked back to his study. I sighed. What was up with this guy?

I'm 5'6, and I'm rather slight. My breasts aren't very big but I like them. I don't have to wear a bra all the time which is wonderful. I can wear strappy dresses and clothes which show off my shoulders and I love it. My mother is a beautiful woman, she's slim like me, but we don't look the same. She's more of a natural beauty, whereas people tend to call me "pretty" so I wondered what my stepfather meant by his comment that evening.

About a week later I was coming out of the shower in my towel and I felt his eyes on me. I looked to the right but I saw no one there. It was rather dark and my mother was working late. I walked to my room quickly and shut the door. I was drying off and put on a thin vest and some figure hugging cut offs and went downstairs. He was watching a film on the television and I sat next to him, getting out my nail polish to paint my toenails. He turned to look at me, amused.

"Must you do that next to me?"

"I'm sorry" I went to move but he put his hand on mine.

"No, it's okay, you might as well stay here now"

I moved my hand from under his and put my nail polish back under the sofa.

"I'll be right back" he put his hand on my back before he stood up, sauntering off to the kitchen. I got my nail polish back out and painted my nails while he bustled about in the kitchen, putting it away before he came back. He plunked a bottle of beer beside me.

"There you go"

"Thanks" I said absently, watching the film.

We started watching a horror film afterwards, neither of us really talking to each other much. Eventually I began to feel quite tired. I lay back on the sofa, shutting my eyes momentarily. Beer often makes me feel tired.

The next thing I knew I woke up, my head on Tony's shoulder. I jerked back and he looked at me sharply.

"I'm sorry" I stammered.

"It's okay. It's only me" he replied, sipping his beer as he carried on watching the television. "Relax"

"What time is Mum back?" I asked.

"She's working the night shift. She won't finish until nine in the morning, she called me"

I went to go back upstairs.

"Karen?"

"Yes?" I asked.

"I was going to cook this for your mother but, how about I cook it for you instead? We can have dinner together" he suggested, looking at me expectantly. I hesitated. I was going to get on with some more work, but then I was up to schedule with my work so I could afford to enjoy the evening.

"Alright then" I told him. I didn't really have anything outstanding to do at all.

He cooked a delicious meal, I had to grant him that. He was polite and talked to me for once, not like usual. He didn't look at me strangely, nor offer little comments. We just talked.

"Thanks Tony, that was a really nice meal. Thanks" I said, giving him a hug. I never really hugged my stepdad much.

We sat down to watch a film and he brought some beer and set it down.

I began to get tired again. I closed my eyes momentarily and all of a sudden I felt his lips on mine. Warning signs ran through my brain. I pulled away quickly.

"What are you doing?" I asked angrily.

"I was kissing you, I think. Didn't you like it?"

"No, as a matter of fact, I didn't"

"Well I'm sorry"

"No you're not, you're drunk" I shouted at him.

I went upstairs, brushed my teeth and turned out the light. I didn't want to see him again that evening, let alone talk to him about what happened. He was drunk and that's all there was to it.

I woke up at eight. I went downstairs, made coffee then went back up to my room. When I entered my room upstairs I heard footsteps from my parents' bedroom. A minute later there was a knock at the door. I groaned inwardly. What did he want now?

"Come in" I sighed.

"Hi, can we talk?" He asked. He sounded breathless.

"Yes, if you want" I said breezily. He walked over to my side of the bed and sat down near my feet.

"I know that I kissed you last night," he began tentatively "and I know I shouldn't have. I'm sorry if I made you feel bad..."

"..I didn't feel bad" I interrupted. "But you shouldn't have done it. Don't drink so much"

"I wasn't drunk"

I stared at him. "What do you mean?"

"I said I wasn't drunk"

I looked at him. I didn't get it.

"You must have been to have kissed me like that"

"Haven't you ever considered the possibility that you are rather attractive, Karen? Look, I messed up, I'm sorry" he conceded.

"But you are with my mother. You shouldn't be kissing anyone else"

"I haven't" he argued.

"Well then why did you kiss me?" I put my mug of coffee down and looked at him indignantly. He wasn't going to leave without explaining what was going on.

"Because I wanted to. I know you are going to hate it but that's the truth, if you want it. Please don't tell your mother"

"You know I won't tell my mother"

"I know"

"Then don't treat me like a child"

"I'm not treating you like a child, I'm just telling you that she wouldn't understand"

"Why, because you're a weirdo?"

"I'm not a weirdo, young lady, and if you are going to give me attitude, you can explain to your mother..."

"Explain to her what? Explain that her husband is hitting on me?"

"I am not hitting on you"

"Yes you are, you're trying to make me like you. I don't like you"

"You do like me. I can see it in your eyes"

"I do not!"

"Liar" he whispered. I looked at him wide eyed.

"Come on, Karen. You know it's true"

"You're crazy, I do not, I think you are obnoxious, uncaring, uninterested..." Before I could finish he pressed his finger to my lips and I stopped. He moved closer and kissed me passionately, holding my head. I let him kiss me, in shock. When he finally pulled away I was speechless. I didn't know what to say.

"..Now that wasn't so bad was it?" he said finally, smiling at me. I didn't reply. "Karen, you are stunning. You are individual, different, refreshing. Believe it or not I do care, I've cared about you ever since I moved in. I know you will never truly see me as your Dad, but it doesn't matter. You are lovely to have around. I love watching you. Can't you see it? Don't you see the way I look at you? Think about it" he left, leaving me, worried.

That night Mum was out again, working the night shift. She had slept in during the day and by the time I got back from work she was only just getting up.

"Tony is upstairs in his study" she informed me on her way out.

That evening I retreated up to my room. I thought that he would probably come downstairs and sit in front of the television so I wanted to stay in my room where he wouldn't talk to me.

He didn't come to my room. He didn't even come upstairs. I wondered whether he was ignoring me. Waiting to see what I would do. I became curious. I ventured downstairs noisily, announcing my presence to the empty living room as I passed through to the kitchen. I poured myself a drink, then wandered into the living room. He was sitting reading something or other, I couldn't make anything out in the dim light. I turned to go back to my room.

"Karen..." I stopped.

I thought I had heard him whisper my name, but maybe it was just me imagining it. I carried on walking until I reached my bedroom. I sat down on my bed, placing my glass on my nightstand and began to undress, turning around to watch myself in the mirror. I liked my body. I sat down and brushed my long, dark hair, from around my shoulders to down my back, where it trailed to my waist. When I was younger my father used to brush my long hair and I loved it. I wished he was still alive, just to feel someone brushing my hair again with such love and affection. It was the last thing I had that reminded me of my dad. A tear slipped down my cheek as I felt the sorrow wash over me. I wanted to feel loved. My mother was distant, always working, never seemed to be able to sit down and have a conversation with me just to tell me that she loved me. She never held me anymore. She was distant from Tony, distant from me, in her own world almost. I wondered how Tony coped with that. He didn't seem very touchy feely or sentimental. I think that's what I didn't like about him. If something got to him, you would never know it. Why was I contemplating Tony's feelings again? Why was I even thinking of him? I lay down on my bed and tried to sleep, turning my bedside lamp off.

The next morning I went downstairs to be greeted with my mother's back to me.

"Mum?" I called. She turned round, her tear stained face told me all I needed to know.

"What happened?" I demanded.

"Tony and I had a fallout, that's all" she whispered. "I'll be at work this evening, don't say anything to Tony" she left without giving me chance to demand a proper explanation. I was livid. I saw Tony venture out from the living room and I caught him, standing in front of him, blocking his entry to the kitchen.

"What did you do to my mother?" I shouted angrily.

"We had an argument, that's all, you know I would never touch your mother"

"What did you say to her that upset her so much?"

"If you really want to know, it's about the fact that it seems okay for her to want me one minute and not the next, if you know what I mean. Do you need any more of an explanation?"

He looked hurt. I suddenly realised that he was rather upset.

"I... I'm sorry Tony, I don't know what to say..." I started.

"You don't have to say anything" he muttered, walking up to his private study, slamming the door shut.

It didn't take a genius to figure out what was going on. My mother would never tell me this, but I was absolutely positive that it was the fact that my mother was working all the time and didn't spend enough quality time with Tony. To put it bluntly, she wasn't having sex with him on a regular basis, just when she felt she had the time. This is a problem I actually understood from Tony's perspective. I don't like people that turn from fire to ice, and I couldn't expect him to live with that either.

From then on I saw Tony in a different light. I knew how it felt to feel unloved. I wanted to help him, I really did. If I was my mother... I stopped myself. I wasn't sure where I was going with that thought. I spent time with him, but I still noticed the way he looked at me, and it still made me just as nervous. Much of the time spent together was without words. We would sit and watch a film, or he would come in and sit and watch me play piano, or we would sit and read quietly in the same room or eat dinner together with minimal conversation. But he stared at me, really stared. Whenever I caught him gazing at me he would just continue doing it. It was blatantly obvious and I wasn't quite sure how to handle it.

One night we were splayed out on the sofa together, and he put his arm around me but all of a sudden it felt strange. I excused myself promptly and went upstairs. He followed me up to my room.

"What's the matter, sweetheart? Was I getting too close for you?"

"Nothing is up" I replied simply.

"You may not think so"

"Just leave me alone for a bit, will you Tony?"

I heard him venture downstairs about forty five minutes later, so was glad to have upstairs to myself. I opened my door and went to my mother's room. I wanted to put back a necklace I had borrowed. I heard footsteps, and heard the door open.

"What are you doing here?" Tony demanded.

I turned around. "I'm putting something back"

"You shouldn't be in here"

"You're not my father" he moved closer to me. Too close. He moved past me from where I was standing at my mother's dresser and sat down on the bed. I could feel his eyes on me.

"What are you looking at?" I asked.

"Just you"

"Well don't"

"Don't you like me looking at you?"

"I do see the way you look at me, and it scares me" I whispered.

"Why?"

"I see the want in your eyes"

"Why does that scare you?" he asked once more. I shrugged.

He moved closer to me and kissed me, a kiss that caused butterflies in my stomach. I enjoyed it but pulled away.

"Do you think this is wrong?" I asked him, leaning back on my hands on the bed.

"Well, I am your stepfather, so technically it is, but you are also an adult. You can do what you like" He leaned over me, his breath hot on my face.

"Would you like to experience the forbidden, Tony?" I asked him breathlessly.

"I think I would..." he said, training his eyes on me, on my bustier. He sat there a moment before he spoke again.

"Get that thing off. I've wanted to see you naked in ages"

I removed my bustier and my shorts as he watched me silently, stroking himself through his trousers. I stood in front of him in my underwear, which didn't really leave anything to the imagination. I felt his eyes rove over my body.

"I always thought you'd be beautiful" he told me, lying back on the bed. He sat up and moved to the edge of the bed. "Come here" he gestured.

I approached him, walking to the edge of the bed until my breasts were just above his mouth. He looked up at me. He slowly brought his hands to my body, moving his hands up my stomach to run his hands over my breasts.

"You're so soft" he breathed as he cupped my breasts in his hands. I smiled for what felt like the first time in weeks. His hands were gentle, and it made me shiver, goose bumps appearing on my arms as he blew on my skin softly, brushing his lips over my tummy, moving up to kiss my breasts. He licked circles around my nipples, making them hard and wet, bathing them in his warm saliva. He took my nipple into his mouth, sucking on it gently as I felt the familiar pang of lust deep inside me. I squeezed my thighs together as he sucked on my nipples, holding onto my waist. I felt his hand venture downwards, pressing up against my cunt, stroking me lightly. I really wanted to press myself against his hand, but I waited, concentrating on his hot breath on my skin, his firm tongue as it caressed me. After what seemed like an eternity he took my panties down. I finally felt his hand pressing up against my pussy more insistently,brushing against my trimmed curls. It made me shudder and I opened my legs wider. I felt his fingers part my labia slightly as my wetness gave him entry to me, and he looked up at me. He looked so excited. I wondered how long it had been since my mother had given him a pussy as wet as this. I leant down and kissed him as he touched me. We shared tender, sincere kisses that left us breathless. I looked at him with desire.

"Take your clothes off" I asked him softly. He stood up and began to unbutton his shirt, and I took it off his shoulders, admiring his frame as he dropped his trousers. He turned round, completely naked and my breath caught in my throat. My mother was mad to lose this man's affections. I dropped to my knees in front of him and kissed along his swollen member, pausing to lick the underside of his cock. I could already see precum at the tip of his cock so I ran my tongue over it, my saliva wetting his cock. I brought him into my mouth, sucking on his cock with a passion I didn't know I had. My pussy was saturated. I loved sucking his cock. It felt so good in my mouth. He was so hard. I knew at that moment how much I wanted him inside me.

"Tony ... will you fuck me?" I asked him, looking up at him, the head of his cock still in my mouth as I swirled my tongue around the tip of his cock.

"I'll fuck you until you beg me to stop" he answered, pulling his cock out of my mouth. I grinned, jumping onto the bed, pulling him with me. We were both on our knees on the bed, and I kissed him hard. We clung to each other, wanting to make the most of our encounter, I pulled him down with me, kissing him.

"I want you so much" I whispered to him.

"I've wanted you for months, Christine" he whispered back, cradling my face in his hands.

I laid back on the bed, parting my thighs, feeling him come between them, pressing his cock up against my pussy, begging to be let in.

"Tony...now" I moaned as I felt him penetrate me, thrusting into my depths. I couldn't believe that he could feel so perfect inside me, this man that I had never really looked at as a potential lover, looked at even as a threat to my mother's affections, but found out that he was no more a threat than the neighbour across the street. I ground my hips into his, gripping his strong arms, kissing and nibbling his shoulders and chest as he moved inside me. My insides were tingling, as if with a static electricity, I could feel him touching parts of me which made me feel like no one else had before, making me wetter than I could have ever anticipated. My pleasure built as I suddenly felt my cunt pulsating around his cock, and a wave of pleasure took me like a tidal wave, causing me to cry out.

"Oh yes, sweetie. Come around Daddy's cock, coat it with your come, baby" he groaned. I could feel my juices flowing inside me as he thrust inside me deeper, approaching his climax.

"Baby, I'm going to come, I'm going to come inside you, oh..." he groaned and I felt him coming inside my pussy, his come flooding my insides, intermingling with my own juices. It felt amazing. We lay there for some time in each other's arms, not quite being able to put into words what had just happened between us.