บท 405: Step-Lover
byilikeithot6308©
This is a new story. I ask for your indulgence.
If you are looking for a quick one, you may not like this. I tried to strike a balance between the good bits, and character development, but be warned, it takes a while to get rolling.
For those who aren't into Interracial sex, or Forced Participation, I suggest you look elsewhere. I'm putting it in the Incest/Taboo category because I feel the general thread applies, but my opinion may be biased.
I hope you enjoy your time reading this work. Please send me your feedback when you're done, and cast your votes.
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I was sitting in bed, thinking back....way back....to the beginning of this whole sordid, twisted, convoluted saga. It was a day I'd never forget.
You see, that day turned my life around in so many ways I can't even count them. Some of the changes were immediate. Others took many, many years to become evident.
I guess the best place to start is at the beginning....
*****
My name is Ethan. My Father is Nathan, and my Mother is Jasmine.
Actually, my Mother was Jasmine.
As I said, that day....the one that truly caused my life's path to diverge from the expected one....it was a day I'd never forget. It was the day my Mother died.
I was eight at the time, and I remember hearing my Father's anguished, tortured scream. Being a nosey kid, I got out of bed, and went to the top of the stairs, peeking down at my Father, who was being held up and consoled by a police officer, while his partner retrieved a chair for him to sit on. I couldn't hear much of what was being said, but I knew it wasn't good. The distraught look on my Father's face said it all.
It took quite some time for me to learn what had truly happened that night, but eventually I did. A drug addled teenager, desperate for money to buy his next fix, used his gun to rob the restaurant where my Mother waited tables. No one resisted. They gave him what he wanted, but that didn't stop him from waving the gun around, playing the tough guy. It went off accidentally, and my Mother was the unfortunate person who just happened to be in the path of the unaimed shot. She was killed instantly.
I'd like to say I remember the funeral. Then again, maybe I'm lucky that it's a blurry memory at best. I'd rather have another image of my Mother to remember for the rest of my days on earth, besides that of a wooden box of grief. I chose to forget it, and remember her.
Shared pain sometimes brings people closer. I suppose that explains why my Father and I became inseparable. I was missing my Mother, and he only had me left as a part of her. We grew closer than we had ever been before.
My parents had been quite conscientious, with regard to financial planning. I had money that was invested on my behalf for future schooling, but most importantly, they had invested in personal life insurance. The statistics say that most families don't take that step, or that if they do, they don't get enough of it. It's an expense that often gets pushed off the priority list, especially for minorities like us, but my parents didn't want a tragedy for one of them to destroy the lives of all of us. The payout took the financial burden off my Father's shoulders. The emotional one was harder to lift.
That fact was huge, because it allowed my Father to make the next move that would change my life.
I suppose I should mention one thing, before I continue. It's something that I didn't really think was an issue for most of my life, however short that may be so far. Race had never been an factor, as I had lots of friends who were white, but my immediate neighbourhood was mostly black. So was the area where my Mother worked. Whatever the reason behind it, my Father made the decision that we were going to use the money from the insurance policy to move, and bought us a new house, in a 'better and safer'.... and whiter.... part of town. Looking back, I now understand his desire for a fresh start, where every room, sound and part of the neighbourhood didn't remind him of her.
I had never felt unsafe living where we did, but I was just a kid, so what did I know? Maybe Dad was right. Maybe....but I still didn't like moving, and leaving my friends behind. My Father did his best to make it a fun adventure, and I knew as long as he was with me, I was safe. Still, I did put up some resistance.
My new school was....well, a bit traumatic at first. I wasn't the only black kid in my class, as there were several others, but the balance was definitely reversed. The other kids, of all colours, were friendly enough, but I wasn't used to being in the minority. Maybe race was more of a factor than I thought.
Gradually, I found a new circle of friends, and began to fit in. Life, without Mom, settled down.
For about a year.
Until she entered the picture.
***
Now, I can completely understand my Father's actions. It was unfair of me, as a child, to expect him to remain alone forever. It was not a disrespectful act, tarnishing my Mother's memory. I'm sure she would have wanted him to move on, and be happy, just as he would have had the situation been reversed.
However, as a nine year old at the time, understanding was lacking. First, I didn't like the idea of some strange woman replacing my Mother. It was another change I simply wasn't ready for. The second reason was more outwardly obvious.
Her name was Selena. I don't know where she and my father met, but somehow they connected. I remember several times I was left with babysitters, that in retrospect were clearly dates between them, until finally I was introduced to her, and she to me. I noticed something about her immediately.
She was....white.
Well, Hispanic, really....but very light in skin tone. I'm a little ashamed to admit it now, but back then, I hated her, from the very beginning.
Despite my best efforts to dissuade them, Selena and my Father hit it off, and she became a frequent visitor at our house. To her credit, she tried to get along with me, but I wasn't interested in meeting her halfway. To me, the solution was simple ; get the fuck out of my life.
***
I was nearly ten by this point, growing taller, like my Father. My friends would often come over to my house to shoot hoops, or use the pool, and it was one of them that first pointed something out to me.
Cameron was older than most of the gang by nearly two years, the eldest brother of my friend Jake, and he was playing basketball with us one afternoon when Selena arrived to spend some time with my Dad. She said hello to everyone....I snarled my return greeting....and she went inside.
"Who...." Cam asked, taking the ball from me, "....was that fox?"
Huh? What's a fox? I hadn't really started to notice girls yet, even those my own age, so older women were way off my radar. Older is a relative term, of course, but I was too young to know that, at 21, Selena was far from old.... and definitely a fox.
"Her?" I grumbled. "She's my Dad's girlfriend. Why?"
So, just like that, the basketball game ended, and my sexual education began. Cam held class, and I grudgingly listened.
"Didn't you see the tits on her?" he grinned. "And that ass? Man, your Dad must be having fun with her!" I'm sure he had no idea what he was really talking about, but he was older, and he talked a good game, so we all listened. He told us how pretty she was, how 'hot' her long dark hair looked, and how much he'd like to get his hands on her huge boobs.
I didn't see the point of touching her, but somehow his words stuck, and I started to notice what he was saying. It took about another two years for me to really appreciate it, but.....Cam was right.
She was pretty. And built.
And....about to marry my Father.
***
I imagine you can guess how well I took that news.
Not. Very. Happy. To say the least. It was bad enough that he was spending time with her, and forcing me to tolerate her around the house, but now.... Oh shit! If they got married, she'd be moving in, wouldn't she? She would be trying to take my Mother's place, literally.
That idea, I hated more than the idea of my Father and a white woman.
As far as the actual wedding goes....I wasn't invited. It was probably best that way. They went away for a week, while I stayed with the neighbours. When they got back, I made up for lost time, kicking up a royal fuss, to no avail.
My Father took me aside, in an effort to ease the tension. Or maybe not.
"Ethan," he said softly, "talk to me. I know you're not happy, but this is happening, so you have two choices ; either talk to me and help me sort this out, or remain silent, and grounded, until you do."
Dad rarely played the threat card, but when he did, it was not an idle comment. It was a promise. I chose to talk.
"What do you want me to say, Dad? I don't like Selena."
"Yes, that much I gather. I don't suppose you'd share your reasons with me?" Dad asked. I didn't say anything immediately, so he took control. "Son, I know you miss your Mother. There isn't a day goes by that I don't miss her too, and think about how happy were all were as a family. I wish there was a way we could get that back, but the truth is, we can't....no matter how much we want to. Mom's gone. She was stolen from us by bad luck. I'll always love her, and I know you will too. Selena is not trying to take her place."
Looking back, I appreciate him trying to deal with me as an adult. However, it was a huge stretch to expect a ten year old to see the distinction. If she was here, she was taking Mom's place.
"I don't understand," I replied.
"Do you love me?" he asked.
"Yes, Dad," I nodded.
"And you know I love you, right?"
"Yes Dad."
"I know this is hard for you to understand, but I also love Selena," he explained. "It's not the same love I have for your Mother. It's different love. New love. My loving Selena doesn't mean I love your Mother less. That can never happen. I'm not asking you to do anything different than me. We, the two of us, we'll never let go of Mom. She's with us forever." He paused and turned away. When he looked back at me, his eyes were moist.
"I can't tell you what to feel, Ethan. I can only ask that you give Selena a chance. She cares about you, almost as much as I do. If you give her a chance, and get to know her, you might grow to love her too."
Dad patted my shoulder, and left me alone, closing the door behind him.
Maybe he was right. I knew he would never hurt me, and that included anyone he let into our lives. Selena had never been mean to me, despite my behaviour. I had been the one that shut her out, and I began to see that shutting her out was hurting my Dad, something I never intended to do.
Okay. 'Give her a chance', he said. I can do that.
***
In a perfect world, that decision would have made everything sunshine and rainbows. In the real world....not quite so easy. Those feelings of animosity were dug in pretty deep, and I found that if I wasn't consciously trying to control them, they would take over. I suppose, in my mind, the appearance of Selena would always be tied to the end of my Mom's life. Pretty heavy baggage for a ten year old to carry.
Things did improve, though. Until I was about eleven, anyway.
That's when the hormone fairy arrived, and I began to notice what Cameron had been talking about. Girls had curves, and curves were interesting.
Selena, on the other hand, had C-U-R-V-E-S. I'm sure my Mother had them as well, as I do remember how soft her hugs were, but Selena wasn't my Mom. She was just.....here, and I started to appreciate that fact.
By now, Cameron had discovered his Father's stash of Playboy magazines, and given us all an eyeful. I was immediately struck by how beautiful a naked woman really was.....especially one with a nice, big, round pair of boobs. I wonder if my Dad knew something I didn't about Selena? I'm sure he did.
Anyway, as my eyes took notice of the fairer sex, I couldn't help seeing that she was certainly one of the fairer ones. She was very pretty, with deep, soulful brown eyes, and soft lips. Her body? Oh my God!
You see, she was 22, and a new bride, so she made sure her man had plenty to keep him interested. Trouble was, Dad wasn't the only one who was appreciating the view, and Selena was fuelling my early puberty with high octane sexuality. She was making me crazy, and I didn't even know why yet. I just knew that everywhere I looked, I saw her big tits, or her sexy legs and rump. I had just begun to accept her in the house, and now these other feelings were bubbling up.
Confusing? Yeah, you could say that.
I have to ask you a question. Do you remember when you discovered masturbation? I don't really remember it exactly, but it was around this age somewhere. Who knew that it could feel sooooo goooooood?
I do remember one particular instance, though. The first time I got caught whacking off.
By Selena.
Oh yeah. That'll stunt your growth.
Her timing wasn't just bad, in flinging open the bathroom door unannounced.... It was perfectly bad. I had just reached the point of no return, and was jerking madly to close the deal, when....well hello there!
Have you ever tried to stop cumming? I mean, sure, we've all, as guys, tried to hold off the inevitable, for just a few seconds more, usually at the request of our female companion who was getting close to her own climax. I don't know if there is a female equivalent of that delay tactic. If there is, let me know. In this case, however, I'm not talking about delaying the orgasm. I'm talking about putting the genie back in the bottle after the cork has popped.
So..... I'm sure you'll agree that what I was trying to do was impossible. There's no disengaging that autopilot, no matter how much you want to. You can't even stop stroking, or hide.
Believe me, I wanted to hide, but I was frozen in place, my hand moving with a purpose beyond my ability to stop it.....spewing long strings of gooey white gunk all over the counter top.
I remember the look of terror on her face. I'm sure mine was similar. I also remember the moment her eyes dropped from mine, to the black dick I was still flogging furiously. A hint of a smile crossed her lips.
"Sorry, Ethan," she whispered, pulling the door closed.
I was breathing hard, and leaned against the counter, watching the separate globs of my semen morph into a small lake. I'd better clean this up, really well. Not to hide it, of course....that train had left the station the moment Selena whipped the door open. I just needed her to know I was a courteous masturbator, if there is such a thing.
I wiped, scrubbed, sprayed, wiped again, until the counter was a virgin surface once more. Pulling my pants back up, I opened the door.
I didn't know what to do. Running away from home briefly crossed my mind, but seemed a little rash. I could hide in my room until Dad got home, but that would be hours away. It wasn't even lunch time yet. It would appear that my only choice was to face the music now.
I hadn't really had 'that' interaction with Selena yet. You know the one I'm talking about. If you're from a blended family, you really know what I mean ; that moment when the step-parent has to deal with a situation as though they weren't a hyphenation. This subject wouldn't have been my first choice. Maybe something easier, like admitting I was gay, which I obviously wasn't, given the thoughts that had been causing the swelling she witnessed.
I went downstairs, and sat at the table quietly. Selena was just finishing up our lunch, and placed a sandwich on a plate in front of me gently. A drink followed, and she then took a seat across from me with her own snack.
She looked as nervous as I felt, trying to avoid eye contact. She blew out a long, slow breath, ruffling her bangs, and spread her fingers on the table.
"Ooooo-kay. I guess we need to talk," she breathed, trying to convince herself. If I was really her child, she'd be at least seven or eight years older, with more parenting experience, not 22, and barely beyond getting caught herself. She was being thrown in the deep end, too.
"Ethan, honey....I know you're probably feeling very embarrassed right now," she began, "and I am, too. I apologize for bursting in on you, like that. Your privacy is important. I didn't mean to violate it." She leaned back, and took a deep breath before continuing. That breath made her boobs even more obvious, stretching her t-shirt taut over the ample curves, and my eyes betrayed me, snapping to those big globes instinctively. I'm not sure if she saw me, but she picked up her line of thought.
"What you were doing....it's perfectly normal. Every boy does it. It's part of growing up. Your Father did it. He still does, occasionally. Even I do it," she smiled uneasily, "although in a somewhat different way. Don't worry about it, okay?" She paused, then looked back at me.
"Let's just keep this between us. I won't tell your father, just next time," she giggled, "make sure the door is locked, alright?" She stood, and went to get something out of the refrigerator.
"Selena?" I said softly, feeling much better about the whole thing. She turned. "Thank you." I added.
It was our first moment, and she stepped over to hug me. I was sitting, and she was standing, so the hug put my face.....well, you can do the math. I will say this ; I enjoyed it. So soft, warm and inviting.....Selena's chest pressed into my cheek and neck. It was an incredible sensation, and was destined to be prominent in my fantasies, the 'next time'.
And yes, I would make sure to lock the door.
***
That's how Selena came to be a part of my life, and I became a part of hers. I think it's also how I became her personal toy, in a process that took years, right up to the present.
I said she was a new bride, remember? She liked to display herself for my Dad, even before she caught me wanking.
We have a pool in our new backyard, and Selena had a penchant for tanning her luscious body by that pool. I would peek at her from my bedroom window, watching her skin glisten with cocoa butter and sweat as the sun cooked her to perfection. She had several bikinis that left little to the imagination.....and I have a very fertile imagination. As the years passed, and I began to understand what those noises I heard occasionally at night were all about, I started to envy my Father's access to that body. White or not, she was a hottie.
Now that she knew I was paying attention, though, the unconscious or inadvertent displays of skin became much more deliberate, and seemingly aimed directly at me. She may have been fucking my Father, but she was fucking with my head, as well.
So I grew up, with a near constant case of blue balls, thanks to Selena's wardrobe of tight, revealing clothing. I locked that bathroom door often, let me tell you....at least once a day, every day, and often more than that. I never had to resort to porn, or magazines to power my fantasies.
I lived with the star.
I stole her underwear from the laundry....and she had an extensive selection of tiny thongs, lacey panties, and high-cut, hip hugging brazilians. She smelled wonderful.
Her bra drawer held a few answers for me as well. 34F. In the neighbourhood of another delicious, sexy Latina who I knew from TV....Sofia Vergara.
Selena would hang those puppies straight at me putting dinner on the table. I would take my offered peek, trying not to be too obvious in case Dad was looking at me instead of at her tits, too. After dinner, I would lock the bathroom door.
Selena would spend the afternoon in the backyard, baking in her bikini, carefully arranged in full view of my window. I would lock the bathroom door.
Selena would spend an hour outside, on her knees, weeding her flowers. With her butt up in the air. I would lock the bathroom door.
It went on, and on. I grew up, she grew bolder, and my Father fucked her brains out every night, reaping the benefits of her flirtatious behaviour. You're welcome, Dad.
As I started to interact more with girls, beginning to date, I discovered how good I had it around home. One Selena was worth twenty teenage girls.
I was 17 when things changed again. It just doesn't seem fair. No one should have to lose both parents that young.
***
For the second time in my young life, I heard that scream of anguish. I ran down the stairs to find Selena crumpled on the kitchen floor. A female police officer was kneeling beside her, while her male partner held my Father's driver's license in his fingers. I helped the female officer, assisting Selena into the living room, and onto the couch. There, they filled us in.
Selena was inconsolable, wailing throughout, with her arms around my neck. I was being strong for her, but I was feeling it too. This is one of those things that experience doesn't make easier.
Dad was gone, the result of a car accident. Not that it makes one shred of difference, but it wasn't his fault. The officers left us to deal with our grief. A 17 year old, who had just lost his second parent, holding a 29 year old widow. We were a wreck.
Once again, my Father's foresight reached out from beyond, and eased the pain as much as it can be eased. The will revealed that the remains of my Mother's policy had been left to me, a then six-figure sum that I didn't even know existed. It had been invested separately, nine years ago, and was now nearly triple what it had begun as.
Selena and I were named beneficiaries in Dad's policy. He was still taking care of us, despite his absence. Money would never be the reason we had to give up on our dreams.
***
This funeral was indelibly etched in my memory. The pain was too fresh, and my ability to understand was complete, so this one has never left me.
Selena was attached to my arm, hiding under the wide brim of her black hat. We were leaning on each other, trying to get through it. It was a very long hour, before we left the cemetery, and went home to an empty, quiet house.
During the nights that followed, I heard her crying in the still darkness. I guess I didn't really understand how much in love she had been with my Father, until then. Listening to her was devastating.
During the day, we tended to spend our time alone, but close. There wasn't a lot of conversation, and only a few instances of physical contact....supportive hugs. Her wardrobe had reverted to sweat pants and t-shirts, as had mine. During one of those hugs, I had a guilty feeling, as I realized that I was rubbing her back while she wept in my arms.....I noticed she wasn't wearing a bra, and began to get aroused. I think she may have felt that growing bulge against her. She pushed me away.
A week passed, and I went back to school. My friends were very supportive, but they didn't suddenly mature overnight. As teenage boys, they maintained the ability to say the exact wrong thing, without malice. Jake was my best friend. He was the one who broached the subject.
"Ethan, I know you've been going through a lot in the last week or so, but I just realized something I'm not sure you have noticed."
"What's that?" I asked, mildly annoyed.
"Your stepmother is all alone now," he said. He raised his eyebrows suggestively.
Like I said, Jake was my best friend, and I had confided in him about Selena's flirting. Part of me was angry with him for mentioning this now. His timing was shitty. Another part was wondering if he was right. Would she?
"Have you had to comfort her yet?" he grinned. "And by 'comfort her', I mean comfort.....in that way only a man can comfort a woman."
Way over the line. I punched him....hard, in the chest, making him stagger back. He looked at me in pain, then nodded. He had gone too far, paid for it, and now was forgiven. Best friends do that.
Still, that little part was wondering. What was going to happen, next?
***
Things were quiet for a few weeks between Selena and myself. At this point, I was pretty much self sufficient, even before my Father's passing. I knew what I needed to do, and I did it, without supervision. I was hoping to get a football scholarship to college next year, and I had a routine before and after school that meant I didn't see her much.
So, when she was suddenly up in the morning, and telling me what to do, I had to wonder just what was going on. I asked her exactly that. Perhaps I could have been more diplomatic.
"Why the hell do you want me to do that?"
"Simple," she said sternly. "I'm your Mother, and you'll do as I say."
When my Father was here, she had let him run the family. He trusted me enough to run my own life, unless and until I proved otherwise. He was always available for advice, but he let me make the decisions.
Selena may not have known that, or maybe she just didn't agree with it, so now she was flexing her muscle. Advice was out. She was in charge.
"You're NOT my Mother!" I spat back angrily.
"No. I suppose I'm not," she growled back, her hands on her hips. "Not biologically, anyway. But, I'm your Father's wife, and your legal guardian. I am the adult here, and my word is the final one!" Her attitude made her body twitch as she barked her commands, and I noticed that she was fully dressed again, and back to her usual wardrobe.
But Dad's not here anymore, so who is she showing off for?
***
I had less than a year to wait.
A little over ten months to put up with her shit.
315 days before I turned 18, and was legally able to make my own decisions. I would have the money to live on my own. I wouldn't need to see her ever again.
It wouldn't be easy, but I could hold out. I chose to do so.
Thus began a battle of wills that would last nearly two months. The problem is that I couldn't really fight back. She had the power. All I could do is impersonate Muhammad Ali, and do the rope-a-dope, hoping she would punch herself out. Go ahead. Give it your best shot.
It didn't take long for me to begin to doubt my strategy. She had some pretty effective weapons, and she knew just how to use them to get to me. She was also well practised in their deployment.
Yes.... I'm talking about 'those' weapons. The twins, and her sumptuous rump. You see, with Dad gone, I was no longer getting the peripheral effects of her big bombs....collateral damage, as it were. No, she had me firmly in the cross hairs, and was firing away at will. The teasing was merciless. I spent a lot of time with the bathroom door locked. I thought that I was at least safe in there, but she was a resourceful enemy.
She knew that most of the time, when I was in there, especially for longer periods, I was tending to the 'wound' she had caused. What better time to attack?
Like most houses, the lock on our bathroom door is more of a reminder than a security device. Someone tries to turn the handle.....it stops.....they realize the room is occupied, and go elsewhere, or at least wait impatiently. It's meant for privacy, not defence, and can be unlocked from outside, if you know how.
She knew how. The door flew open. Caught again, but not by accident.
Over the years, when I was similarly engaged, I thought I had heard her just outside the door. Listening. Now I knew for sure.
This time, she didn't even try to feign surprise. She didn't need to. Her plan wasn't to snoop ; it was to deter. Stop. Intercede. Derail. If she could keep me from completing the transaction as often as I had in the past, she could wear me down, and bend me to her will.
"I thought so," she snarled, standing in the doorway, staring at the swollen member, I was trying to stuff back into my pants. "You're a filthy pervert. You will not do....that," she gestured, "in my house."
Fine. I'll do it during my shower then.
Until she started breaking in on me, every time I used the bathroom. Taking a dump? She opens the door. Morning shower? She's in there, doing whatever, to make sure I couldn't...you know. I never knew when she might burst in on me, and was still embarrassed enough about it to care. If only I was an exhibitionist, I would have just flogged it with her as an audience. It would have made it even better.
Weakened, I tried to hold out, then fought back. I may not have had weapons in the flirting war, but I could play this new game, too.
I knew, from the sounds that came from her bedroom at night, that she was doing her own thing in there, nearly every night. I decided to perform a little interruption of my own.
When she was out one day, I searched her room. They weren't well hidden, just under some underwear in her bedside drawer. Three vibrators, including a long thin one, a medium sized one, and a monster. All had their fresh batteries removed, and replaced with duds from our recycling box. Then I hid the supply of new batteries we kept in the fridge. I put the toys back, and left the room.
I would have liked to see her face when she went to pleasure herself that night, only to find her plastic lovers out of commission. I got a few suspicious looks the next morning, but my poker face held up.
Of course, disabling her electric friends didn't stop her. It just made her work harder to achieve her goal. Perhaps their strange disappearance would do it.
The next time she went out, I went to kidnap one of them, and found the door locked. Same deal as the bathroom though, and I knew how to unlock it as well. Once inside, I went for the drawer, only to find them missing already.
Okay. Hide and seek it is.
It took me a while, but I found them. She wasn't very inventive, just switching drawers. I picked up the biggest one, and left, re-locking the door on the way out. I disposed of the body.
Another day of strange looks followed. At the earliest opportunity, another of her little buddies joined the first, tossed up the hatch into the attic to vanish in the insulation.
She had to know now. It took an hour to find her lone remaining playmate, hidden under her mattress, but he met the same fate as his predecessors.
The morning after the final abduction, though, I came to realize I was an idiot. Try as I might to keep her from masturbating, as she was stopping me, I forgot about her final line of defence. She had fingers.
I walked into the kitchen to find her... Smiling. At me.
"Nice try," she giggled. She made a show of sniffing her fingertips. "I really do smell good, don't I?" She sauntered over to lean on the table, squeezing her arms together, and making her already devastating cleavage even more so. "You remember, don't you? From when you would steal my underwear?"
She sat across from me, and stared. And stared. And stared.
"If this is your end game," she said quietly, "I'm sorry, but you lose. You can't stop me, but I can stop you."
She was right. I was beaten. Even though I could still take care of things at night, in the privacy of my room, that wasn't enough for me. I couldn't avoid the arousal her teasing caused. My hormones just wouldn't be silenced.
"Look, Ethan....just do what I tell you, and I'll leave you alone. This doesn't have be a fight all the time. You can have your private time back, to do whatever it is you do," a twisted grin followed, then she continued. "Make it easy on yourself."
Uncle. I nodded.
A truce was called, and we gave each other space. I even retrieved her vibrators from the attic, although it took some hunting to find the last one.
She really wasn't asking for a lot in the way of cooperation, anyway. I had been a bit pig headed, bucking against restraints that my Father never put on me, but that were hardly imprisonment. She just needed more help around the house than I was used to giving. I suppose she could have asked, rather than told, and that might have led to a different outcome.
Anyway, we got along a bit better. Still some friction on occasion, but no fireworks. She dressed in her usual, provocative way.
And I was free to lock the bathroom door.
***
As the summer went on, my friends were frequent visitors to our pool. That's when I confirmed that her behaviour was directed at me only.
As I mentioned before, Selena had a selection of teenie bikinis to choose from, and practically lived in them during the hottest summer months. That had always been the case, even when Dad was alive. When my friends would come over, she would always cover up, and I mean 'cover'. The shorts were longer, and even the cleavage disappeared under baggy, form concealing sweatshirts.
When my friends would leave, she would strip off the camouflage, and I would get the full treatment again. Since my Father was no longer here, I could come to one conclusion. She was having fun teasing me.
Despite my recent reinstatement of masturbation privileges, my frustration level was rising daily. Yours would be too, if you had a goddess like Selena parading around in front of you constantly. The boobs. The butt. The firm, flat belly. Those lips, wrapped around my....
I think I feel a bathroom calling my name.
On one particularly frustrating day, I found Selena in the kitchen. She had been in sun for the last hour, and had a glow of sweat glistening on her body. The peach coloured bikini that graced her form was beautiful....as was her ass, with the string of the thong threaded between her firm glutes. There was a bit of grass stuck to her back, and I brushed it away.
"Grass," I informed her.
"Thanks," she smiled. "Did you get it all?"
I looked closer. Yep, got all the grass. My closer inspection did cause my eyes to linger on her incredible backside. Before I knew what was happening, my hand, seemingly moving on its own volition, had cupped the underside of her right cheek.
I saw stars! When my vision cleared, Selena was glaring at me, and rubbing the hand she had just slapped me with.
"Ethan! You will not touch me in such an inappropriate way!" she screeched.
"I'm sorry!" I blurted. "I didn't mean to! I don't know..... "
"Go to your room!" she commanded.
I relented, hanging my head as I left. She was right. I had touched her ass, even though I didn't really mean to. My hand just.....
Man, what an ass, though. I could still feel it. I could still feel the slap, too. My jaw was sore.
A couple of hours later, I sheepishly went back downstairs to apologize again. Selena was dressed, which is to say, covered, but still on display. The V-neck top was tight, leaving her deep cleavage out for drooling over. The shorts were equally snug, and quite short, showing a lot of thigh.
"Selena? Are you still mad at me?" I asked softly, taking a seat at the table.
"What do you think?" she growled, her eyes locked on her magazine. She licked a finger, and turned the page with an angry snap. Without lifting her head, her eyes looked up at me. It was a 'very pissed off' expression.
"I can't believe you did that," she said in exasperation.
"I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say," I said quietly.
"Okay. Apology accepted. I'm still not happy, but I'll get over it," she nodded. Her face relaxed, most of the anger draining away.
Well, as long as we're talking.....
"You don't make it easy, you know," I added. Bad idea.
She had stood, and was putting her coffee cup in the sink as I said it. When she turned back, the anger had returned.
"Oh really?" she sneered. "And how is that?"
What I should have said....was nothing. I should have left it alone, taken my lumps and gone to bed.
I didn't.
"Look at the way you're dressed!" I shot back. "You may as well be naked! How am I NOT supposed to be effected?!" Let the argument begin.
We went at it tooth and nail. She told me it was her house, and she would dress any damn way she wanted. I told her it wasn't fair to be teased so blatantly, for so long. I said she was doing it on purpose. She denied it. I yelled, she yelled....until I finished it.
"Three weeks, you bitch! In three weeks, I turn eighteen, and I'm gone! Have fun teasing a house full of nothing!"
I stormed out. That night, when I came home, the house was dark. I crept quietly up the stairs. I was just about to close my door when I heard it.
A soft whimper.
I walked silently closer to her door. Now I heard it clearly. She was....crying?
Good. Cry, you bitch! I hope it hurts. After everything you put me through, I hope it hurts bad!
Well, I was angry. Any chivalrous feelings I might have had were buried under an avalanche of fury. An hour of staring at the ceiling later, my emotions had softened somewhat. I felt bad.
Standing outside her door, I spoke softly.
"Selena? Are you awake?" There was no response at first, but then I heard her.
"Yes Ethan. Come in," she sobbed.
Selena was sitting up in bed, with the sheet wrapped tight around her. It was pretty obvious to me that she was nude underneath. I approached slowly, and sat gently on the edge of the bed. A tissue was crumpled in her hand, and her eyes were red. I hadn't seen this side of her since the funeral. She was hurt, and vulnerable....because of me.
"I'm sorry for what I said. I shouldn't have called you a, um, a....." I stumbled.
"No. You're right. I've been a terrible parent. I don't blame you," she shook her head. "I guess I wasn't ready for the promotion. Your Father did such a good job. He made it look so easy. I miss him so much....."
That started both of us crying, and I found myself holding her again. She was clutching the sheet to her chest, but her back, under my hands, was bare, with skin so soft and smooth I couldn't help noticing. Fortunately, nothing happened further down that would have ruined the moment. I must have held her for half an hour in silence, other than our tears. She pushed back, wiping her nose with the tissue.
"Thank you, honey," she said, with a weak smile. "You should go to bed. We can talk in the morning."
I nodded, and let her go, closing the door behind me on the way to my bed.
It was a restless night. Sorrow, guilt, confusion, anger....all mixed together, with a little arousal on top to make things really interesting. I tossed and turned for hours, until fatigue overpowered emotion.
***
In the morning, I was in the kitchen when Selena shuffled in. She was back to sweats and a well worn t-shirt. She hugged me from behind. I felt those two soft areas of contact, and fought to control myself.
"Thank you for coming in to see me last night," she whispered, resting her head against my back. "I haven't been teasing you on purpose, or at least, not consciously. It's just the way I like to dress. It makes me feel good."
I turned in her arms to face her, and she looked up at me. Her eyes were puffy, but she did look better.
"Then you should dress that way, if it makes you happy," I smiled back. "You really are a beautiful woman. I can see why...." I paused, not wanting to cause another deluge of tears. "Dad was lucky," I finished.
"Thank you," she giggled, accepting the compliment. "It's nice to be noticed."
We separated, and sat at the table, to make talking easier. We finally got around to the elephant in the room. Was I leaving?
"No, Selena. I think we can find a way to make it work," I said evenly. "I'm not leaving. And I want to apologize again for grabbing your, um....."
"Oh that?" she smiled, laughing loudly. "I think that's the least of our worries. You just surprised me. That's why I slapped you." She thought for a second, then continued. "I'm not saying it's okay to grab me, but I'm not mad anymore. That was the first time since your Father. I missed it."
Selena made us breakfast, and we ate it together. It was the first relaxed, civil meal we had eaten in months. It's almost like we had come to an understanding, which I suppose we had, in a manner of speaking. She was free to dress as she liked when I wasn't around, and would be more aware of her effect on me, covering up a little when I was.
***
The blissful peace between us lasted all the way beyond my birthday.
My party was more of a simple dinner out, at least as far as Selena was concerned. She looked the other way, and let me go out with my friends, who had set me up with the sister of a friend of a friend. She was.....how to say this without sounding judgemental?..... she was a slut, and eagerly sucked my cock. It wasn't my first blowjob, but it was the best so far. She was supposed to be my present, but she liked sucking cock a little too much to stop after just one. My friends were lined up, waiting for their turn, when I said my goodbyes and went home.
Selena was still up, and gave me a knowing smile when she saw me. As agreed, she wasn't showing off, wearing a robe as she sat reading.
"So, birthday boy," she giggled, "did you have fun with your friends?"
"Oh yeah," I smiled. Yeah, it was a very good night. Man, that girl can suck cock!
"Lots of fun?" she probed, still giving the impression that she knew more than she possibly could. "No alcohol, right?"
"Not a chance. You know I don't drink, even if I could," I laughed. "Lots of fun, but no booze."
"That's good. Heading for bed?"
"I think so," I nodded. "You staying up?"
"No," she groaned, stretching like a cat, and tossing her book aside. "I think I'm done, too."
Even fully covered, that stretch pointed out the heavenly curves under the robe. When she stood and walked over to me, I was watching closely. Maybe getting her to cover up wasn't the best idea I ever had.
Selena tiptoed up, and gave me a peck on the cheek. It wasn't the first time she had done so, but this one seemed different somehow.
"Happy birthday, Ethan," she smiled, and headed upstairs.
I watched her hips sway with each step. Despite the recent blowjob, I found myself having decidedly adult thoughts about my stepmother. At least now, those thoughts were legally mine.
I turned out the lights, made sure the doors were locked, and headed for my room. My dreams were pretty wild, but I slept well.
There were a couple of weeks left in the summer, and I would be going to college soon. That scholarship I had hoped for was a little smaller than I expected, a partial ride only, but I was on the team, and we had the money to make up the slack easily. I was fortunate to be able to continue living at home while attending school. Selena was happy as well that I wasn't leaving her alone. That implicit agreement was holding, and we were getting along fine.
One afternoon, I came home after a pick up game of hoops in the park. Hot and sweaty, I went to the kitchen to get a drink, and found Selena standing by the sink, cleaning vegetables for dinner. She had been sunbathing, and was wearing her bikini. When I walked in, she smiled at me.
"Hi honey," she said happily. "I wasn't expecting you back so soon. Here, let me put my wrap on." She turned, and walked over to the robe hanging over the back of a stool by the island.
"It's okay Selena," I laughed. "Stay comfortable."
"Are you sure?" she asked. "I don't mind." I just waved dismissively, and she went back to her task, while I watched her ass wiggle. I had missed the show. I guess as long as I had the option to end the flirting, I was okay with it.
"That's new isn't it?" I gestured, talking about the bathing suit. "It looks good on you."
"Thank you, Ethan, and thanks for noticing," she giggled. "Yes, it's new. It's a little smaller than I thought," she said, peeking around her boobs to adjust the bottom half slightly. "It's not too much, is it? Too revealing, I mean?"
Where do I begin? The fact that she is asking me those questions spoke volumes about the health of our new relationship. But staring at her....no, being asked to look at her curvaceous body.... as she stood in the tiny suit? That was incredible. As for the suit itself, it was black, with silver trim and strings, and it was definitely smaller than her other bikinis. Tan lines of less exposed skin were clearly visible around the edges of the cups, and either side of the tiny triangle that covered her yummy looking camel toe. It wasn't too much. It was just enough...to drive me insane.
"Um, no. It looks great," I replied. "You look great."
She was still facing me, so she could see my eyes on her. I couldn't help it. I had finally come to the conclusion, that the woman I tried desperately to keep my Father from bringing into our lives, was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. She looked away, nervously, maybe embarrassed at my gaze, but her eyes kept coming back to me. She finally turned away, picking up her knife again and continuing with the veggies.
Remember when I grabbed her butt? How it seemed like my hand had a mind of its own? That mind was back, and it wasn't just running my hand this time. Before I knew it, I was standing behind her, mere inches away. She felt my presence, and had frozen in place.
"Ethan....no," she said quietly.
That other mind might have brought me this far, but now, so close to her that I could smell her, I knew exactly what I was doing. Eight years of teasing and flirtation, intentional or not, flooded back. I wasn't angry, but I had to have her. Now.
I placed my hands on her upper arms, and rubbed them softly.
"No, Ethan," she repeated. "Please don't."
Sliding my hands lower, along her forearms, I leaned against her. My dick was very hard, and I pressed it into her rump. She couldn't possibly miss it.
"Oh god, Ethan....No! We can't," she gasped.
Still pressed fully against her back, I slid my hands along with counter, toward her hips. She tried to grab them, and pull them back to safety, but I was much stronger. I palmed the curve of her waist on each side.
"Ethan! Stop! I said no!" she snapped, but it seemed like she was trying to convince herself as much as warn me off.
One hand moved forward, sliding slowly across her flat belly, before moving up. The other reversed, around her hip, to cup her ass firmly.
"Oh god, Ethan....please," she breathed, her body shivering, "no."
I kissed her neck, and she moaned, letting her head loll back against my shoulder, while the front hand finally touched her breast. I moaned back, fondling the soft, resilient handful firmly.
"Ethan....pl...please, no.... " she whispered. Her hand grabbed mine, and tried to pull it away from her chest. 'Try' is a relative term ; it was a weak effort, barely perceptible.
My second hand joined the first, so that I had both her glorious globes in my grasp. Another kiss on her limp neck elicited another long soft moan of arousal, and she didn't even try to stop me from untying the string around her neck with my teeth. She was panting, with feeble 'no's interspersed with the breaths. One last attempt.
"Ethan.....we can't....I'm your Mother," she hissed. She dropped her knife in the sink, and wilted in my arms. Turning her around, I pulled the top of her bikini aside, and gazed for the first time at all of her magnificent breasts.
"No, you're not," I reminded her, crushing her lips against mine. The full-on-the-mouth kiss seemed to resurrect her resistance momentarily, and she tried to push me away for a few seconds, before the push became a pull.
"No..." she shuddered, "I'm not...but it's still wrong, Ethan." My lips cut her protest short. Her lips parted, and let my tongue press into her mouth. "Wrong. So....wrong."
My hands plucked the bow tied behind her back, allowing the bikini top to fall away completely. She moaned again into the kiss, trying to shake her head. Now naked above the waist, and virtually so below it, she clung to the possibility that this wasn't going to end with me taking her as my own. The part of her that even wanted to resist was shrinking every second, being replaced with a wanton, lonely widow that desperately wanted to be taken. I couldn't think of anything that would make me happier.
I slid a hand down her belly, and under the scrap of fabric that covered her sex. Her eyes opened wider and she struggled again momentarily. My fingers found nothing but hot, smooth flesh. Her lips allowed my fingers inside, to discover her molten, dripping interior.
Now. No more waiting. No more teasing. No more flirting. The last near decade of my life, since she entered it, culminated right here, right now. I had to have her. Immediately.
My hand was still inside her thong, and I ripped it down her legs. She gasped, and tried to stop me, but I was too fast. I turned her away from me again, and bent her over the counter, holding her in place with one hand while I pulled my own shorts down, freeing my cock at last. She continued to fight against my grip on the back of her neck, while I lined up to impale her.
I rubbed the head between her swollen, slippery labia, and was surprised that she stopped struggling.
"Ethan...please...."she begged. I slipped inside her, and pushed deeper. "Oh goddddddddddddd," she groaned, as I pulled back once, then drove my entire shaft fully home. "No....stop....it's wrong," she breathed, resting her cheek on the cool granite counter.
Her pussy was so warm, wet and tight....even better than my fantasies. I looked down, and found the most erotic sight I could imagine ; my dark, black cock, disappearing inside her light pink, pale pussy. Her delicious ass was well tanned and dark, but that just added to the contrast of her tan lines.
I pulled back again, and she whimpered, sounding like a child losing her toy. I pushed in firmly, crushing into her backside. She moaned....a sound that was decidedly more like that of a participant, rather than a victim.
"Please....no....you can't....fuck me," she panted, but her butt was pushing back against me, grinding over my shaft.
Every time I pulled out, she whined, and when I pounded back in, she sighed, then told me to stop again. Her list of reasons 'why' was getting shorter, and less convincing the longer I fucked her. Her body was beginning to shudder in my grasp, betraying her even more than her words.
I was beginning to feel the tingle in my balls that always preceded my orgasm, when I was whacking off to images of this moment in the bathroom.
I gave her a few more full length strokes, and she gave up her pretence entirely.
"Oh shit, Ethan....yes! I know it's wrong, but I don't care," she groaned. "Your cock is so big! Fuck me! Fuck me hard! Make me cum!"
Her open desire let me find another gear, and I fucked her harder still.
"Oh, fuck! Just fuck my cunt! Oooooooooo, yes....more....harder....harder.... HARRRRRRRR....DERRRRRRRRRR!" she shrieked, as the wave of pleasure hit her.
It hit me, too, and I grunted through multiple spurts of joy, deep inside her vagina. Spent, I withdrew on shaky legs to take a seat at the table and catch my breath.
Selena remained draped over the granite, panting softly. Her butt was rosy pink from slapping against me throughout our frenzied coupling. Her legs were limp, knees knocked in, and one foot twisted over on its top. While I watched, a stream of thick, white semen began a slow trickle down her inner right thigh.
My semen. I had fucked my stepmother. I had fucked my Father's wife....my dead Father's wife.
She stirred, getting her feet under her, and standing unsteadily.
"Ooooo," she chuckled, running her fingers through her dishevelled hair, "that was worth the wait." She looked at me, still hungry. "Much better than my vibrator, even the big one."
She took a few steps toward me.
"Speaking of big ones," she smiled, pointing at my shrinking, cum slicked dick, "Where the fuck did you get that thing? Your Father was big....long, anyway. That's fucking huge! You're going to spoil me."
My ego and intellect tussled briefly. Bigger than Dad? Cool! Wait....going to spoil her....future tense. There's more?
When I tuned back in, Selena was on her knees. She reached in, and softly grasped my shaft. It was a bit floppy, but it wouldn't stay that way long if she....oh my god!
Her tongue fluttered from bottom to top, and she sucked in the head, drawing the entire thing into her mouth. She sucked softly, cleaning up the spilled semen and tangy pussy juices that coated it. She moaned happily.
I guess the days of teasing were over.
I'm sure I was clean by now. I'm also sure her mouth was resurrecting my erection, and soon she had to back off, as I grew bigger than she could swallow. Now fully hard, she kissed the head.
"Much bigger. Much thicker...."she giggled, straddling my lap. She dropped her cum soaked cunt over the head, and moaned as it filled her completely. ".... And just right," she sighed, like a lascivious Goldilocks, despite the brunette mane.
She crushed her lips to mine, plunging her tongue deep into my mouth, as she did the same to her clutching pussy on my cock. My hands gripped her hips, guiding her as she bounced energetically on my lap. Her breasts hung and jiggled before my eyes, tempting me to taste them. After years of lusting after her big boobs, it appeared they were now mine to play with on a regular basis. My earlier views had been rushed, but now I could inspect them at my leisure.
Her tan lines, so stark and intense, only made her breasts look bigger. The pale skin ended mere fractions of an inch beyond the circumference of her large areolas. A thick, stubby pink tower sat in the centre of each. I palmed each hefty globe firmly, and she smiled, slowing her pace.
"So, do you like them?" she giggled. "Your Dad was a real boob man. From day one, he just couldn't get enough of them."
I could understand why he felt that way. I'd been jerking off over these for years. Not literally, of course, but maybe later....
"They're incredible," I smiled, tweaking the nipples gently. "What would you like me to do to them?"
"Oh, my darling, whatever you like," she groaned. "I just love having my breasts mauled while getting fucked. Grab them, suck them, kiss them.... gnaw on the nipples, pull on them.....it drives me crazy. It helps me cum."
This is the kind of relationship I could get used to. These instructions, I had no qualms about following. Suck your nipples? Absolutely!
I leaned forward, and collected her right nipple, sucking it gently.
"It won't break, honey. Suck it harder," she giggled. I complied, latching on tight, and lightly biting the spongy nub. "Oh fuck, that's better. Keep sucking."
Her hips sped up, gliding up and down over my pole feverishly. She moaned, and gasped, and growled, while I switched for one nipple to the other, coaxing them to greater heights.
"Oh yes, that's it honey....gonna cum....bite my nipples baby....uhhhn, yes....again.....gonna cummmmm..... UHHHHHNNNMMMMYESSSSSS!"
She clutched my head, holding it tight to her breast while she ground her clit hard against the base of my cock. Her body quaked, while her head hung back, mouth wide in a silent, hissing scream. With a final gasp, she melted against my chest, breathing hard. Her eyes were unfocused slits.
"Ho....... ly.......... shit," she moaned.
She may have been toast, but I was fresh as a daisy, and ready to fuck. I put her limp arms around my neck, grabbed an ass cheek with each hand, and stood up.
"Woooo!" she laughed, holding on tight, while I walked us over to the counter again. I put her down gently.....she giggled at the cold under her butt....and laid her back. Hooking a thigh over each elbow, I adjusted my position for comfort. I looked down at her, where she was looking back from under hooded lids.
I stroked her, long and deep, in a steady rhythm, watching her big tits wobble across her chest.
"Ooohhhmyyyyyyygoddddddddddddd!" she hissed, grabbing the edge of the counter to hold herself in place. "FUUUUUUUUCK MEEEEEE EEEETHANNN!"
I pounded her cunt hard, over and over and over, while she screamed and shrieked in glee. My balls tightened, and I knew I was close. Another few.....
"Mmmnnaaghhhnn! Shit! I'm cumming Selena!" I bellowed, and blasted my load of gooey spunk inside her. She stroked my chest softly with her hand, and smiled as I squirted again and again. Finally empty, I leaned forward to rest on her soft breasts. We were dripping with sweat, and the kitchen smelled like an active brothel.
Several minutes of silence followed. My penis wilted, and fell out of her pussy, letting loose a stream of sperm laden fluids that splattered on the floor.
"Help me up, honey," she smiled. I did, pulling her back to vertical, while more jizz poured out of her. She looked down, and wrinkled her nose. "We made a mess, didn't we? And we stink of sex. Time for a shower. Would you go start it running? I'll clean up here, and join you in a minute."
***
I woke up the next morning, fuzzy headed, and confused. What happened to my room? A sniffle, and some movement next to me did nothing to clear things up, until I focused on Selena's angelic face, half buried in her pillow.
Oh. Yeah. What a day! What a night!
I laid there, looking at her, for almost an hour. Life in this house had changed forever. Yesterday morning, she was the stepmother I had sexual thoughts about. Today, we were lovers. We had spent the afternoon and evening fucking each other into an unconscious state. There was no going back now. Dad had asked me to give her a chance. I'm sure he would agree I had done so. She had taken my Mother's place with him, and now I had taken his place with her.
I had no intention of leaving now. I had visited heaven. Why would I leave? Ever.
Very, very slowly, I eased forward, and kissed her softly on the nose. Her breathing changed, and the one eye I could see fluttered open. She appeared to be feeling the same confusion I had felt, then smiled, and stretched.
Good morning, honey," she said softly, and rolled onto her back, stretching again.
"Good morning....Mom," I jibed. She paused mid-stretch, and groaned, snapping her head in my direction.
"For eight years, you call me Selena," she grumbled. "NOW, you call me Mom?! Are you trying to make me feel guilty?"
"Just messing with your head," I laughed.
"Yeah, well, if you'd like me to do anything to your head," she smiled, reaching under the sheet to grab my morning woodie, "You might want to rethink that joke."
"Yes Ma'am," I smiled.
"Good. Now....do you want to fuck me before breakfast, or after?" she giggled, throwing the sheet back to reveal those magnificent melons.
"Hmmm, how about both," I whispered, rolling closer and cupping her right breast gently, "with an option for 'during'."
"Let's not kill each other in the first 24 hours, honey," she said quietly. "We've got lots of time. Maybe a lifetime. I'm not going anywhere. I'd like this to continue, if that's what you want. I've missed having a big, strong man in my life....and my bed."
*****
So, there you have it. That's how I got here, sitting up in bed....watching Selena's brunette head bob slowly in my lap. She was sucking my cock, something she did with relish, and almost every day, especially since....
She kicked the covers back more, exposing her body. She was laying on her side for comfort, as her belly was getting huge, along with her breasts. My son was less than a month from his birthday. Until then, those huge, milky boobs were all mine. We were about to be parents; me for the first time, Selena for the second, despite it being her first pregnancy.
If you find that confusing, you should have been with us the day we got married. The paperwork was, shall we say, interesting. I'm an 18 year old black man, she's a 30 year old white bride on her second marriage, widowed from my Father, and she was six months pregnant. We made quite a picture
We have a bet. When Nathan, named after my Father, is born, we're going to count back exactly nine months, to determine when he was conceived. Selena says it was that very first day, in the kitchen, when I filled her unprotected womb with cum the first time. I have two weeks later, when we had a 'contraceptive malfunction'.
Either way, I'm the happiest man on earth.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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