I took the blonde up to a room, and every time I touched or kissed her, my stepmother's face and body would flash before my eyes.
But that was not all; I asked myself constantly how it would look if this girl would burn, how long it would take for her to be reduced to ashes, and if it would smell like last time.
I should take the condom and roll it over my cock, getting the pleasure crumbs and the bits of relief. However, I couldn't. To sleep with her would be like sleeping with my stepmother while in the shoes of my father, taking on a substitute.
So I had to leave; the girl didn't take it well and cussed me, but whatever.
Driving home, I let my motorcycle, where I always leave it, climbed over the wall and walked through the garden, to the front door.
But this time, I didn't walk up to the first floor, where my room was located. Instead, I went to the second floor to my father's office.