“My Stepmother - Wife

Kimberly, had to decide whether to marry Randy who wanted to continue his sexual

relationship with his stepmother.

My name, by the way, is Kimberly and I am the reporter for both stories. The first story

is based on what was told to me by the son and his stepmother. The second story is

primary my own recollection of events as the fiancée. It is supplemented by the

recollections of my eventual husband (the son) and his stepmother’s remembrances.

Of course, I was shocked when Randy told me about his unnatural relationship with his

stepmother. But when he explained that he had to become a surrogate so his father

could marry the woman he loved I understood and came to respect his decision and

his father’s solution. Randy was just a bystander who loved his father and was willing

to sacrifice for his happiness. Likewise, later on I faced my own a dilemma when I had

to determine if I could marry a man who would be continuing his sexual intercourse

with his stepmother.

This story is not for those who are of the traditional moral mindset but for the more

modern couples and singles who believe in making accommodations and seizing the

day to enjoy life to the fullest. After all, our society is becoming more mobile, we now

have more freedom through the Internet, and sex is now for more than just for

procreation but something to be enjoyed by more than with just one partner and as

often as possible.

Randy’s story

I [Randy] should explain how this all happened. My father worked in the oil industry and

had to travel to the Mideast frequently. In fact, he spent much more of his time there

than at home. Two years ago, when I was 16, mother died at from a stroke. My father

and I were devastated. However, recently Dad fell madly in love with Margarita, who is

a beautiful 30 year old Hispanic-American woman. Unfortunately, she is very hesitant

to marry him because as a woman with normal needs she wants regular sex and, as

she says her “clock is ticking” for having a baby. She does not want a partner who will

rarely be at home.

My father did not want to lose this attractive and vibrant woman. The easiest way to

describe her is to think of Selma Hayek a few years older with a little bigger butt.

By the way I am 5’9” at 150 lbs with nice abs. Also I have brown/blonde hair with a little

natural ducktail in back. I have been told I look pretty good for a guy my age.

So to start at the beginning, Margarita, who we also call Margie, says to my dad, “Don,

I love you too and could see myself very happily married to you the rest of my life. I

even enjoy your son, Randy. He is so bright, a hunk, and full of life. However, I can’t

marry you since you are never home. We’ve gone over this three times now and I can’t

deal with it anymore. This will have to be our last meeting. I just want you to know that I

wish to be with you as much as you desire to be with me. I love your personality,

generosity, sense of humor, and of course your ability to please me sexuality. And, I

must admit your high-life style would make any girl envious.”

My father responds, “But Margarita, darling, I love you. You are the best thing that could

have happened to me after my wife died. I thought my social life was over and in fact

questioned whether life was worth living. I only stopped that thinking when I thought of

my son, Randy. If you don’t marry me I may as well as be dead. …But I understand.

Okay, I have had time to think this through and I have a solution I want you to consider.”

“What do you have in mind, Don?”

“Honey, I know you like my son Randy and he certainly adores you. Do you think he

could accompany you when I am gone on my work?”

“Accompany me? Where would he accompany me? What do you mean - I don’t get it.”

“Honey, what I mean is take my place as your husband when I am gone. I guess today

they would call him to be a ‘surrogate’ husband. You know he likes to cook and ever

since he went to camp he likes to help with the cleaning.”

“Donnie, darling, what the hell are you talking about? I don’t need a boy scout – I need

a cock on a regular basis!”

“Listen, baby-cakes, that is what I mean but I just don’t want to say it.”

“What?!” A 17 year-old k** who probably has never used a rubber is supposed to

satisfy me? You have to be k**ding! I am not going to spend most of my time using a

vibrator to keep me happy! There are not enough batteries!”

“No – no, honey. I can teach him, or better yet, you can teach him the way you want.

You told me too many men don’t know how to please women.”

“Well that is true. But what about a baby – I’m 30 years old, for Christ’s sake! I want a

baby like yesterday!”

“Margie dearest, there is nothing like a teen age boy to put out gobs of healthy sperm.

They can fuck every day – two or three times a day - if they don’t masturbate. Plus,

look at this way – the baby would have my DNA – so no one would know. When you

get pregnant people would think it was when I was home you were knocked up.

Besides I will be home once in a while and you will have two batches of sperm to

increase your chance of getting a baby - mine and Randy’s…Honey I have thought this


“But what will people think when they see us together? I’m almost twice his age!”

“Honey, they’ll assume he is your son. Besides, those who don’t will be jealous.”

“What about Randy? Isn’t he too innocent to think of something like this?”

“Come on, Margie. You have seen him trying to look down your dress every time you

stoop over. And, I saw that yesterday when I walked in when you were giving him an

eyeful when you in your tennis shorts on the ladder in my library. Of course, I see you

showing off - why shouldn’t you? I wouldn’t want a woman who did not have something

to show off. I remember what it was like when I was his age with that testosterone

running rampant and my cock getting hard every time I was walking down the street

and passed a woman who was in a halter top, wearing shorts, or was eight months


“I didn’t think you noticed dear.”

“My darling little Margarita. I don’t care if my boy fucks you ten times a day as long as

he keeps his hands off you when I am home. How about at least trying it to see if it

might work out? By the way, I have to fly to Cairo Friday night.”

“Don, no not again – you don’t have to leave so soon?”

“Have to, my little sex pot.”

“When are you returning?”

“I am sorry, baby - not for six weeks.”

“What the fuck! Okay then - that does it. I will give the k** a chance. … On the other

hand, maybe this could work. I could teach the Pope to fuck six ways to Sunday with

that much time.”

Don smiles, walks over and kisses Margarita while he lovingly puts his hands on her

blouse and massages her breasts.

Saturday morning and dad has left for the Middle East.

Margarita opens the bedroom door, peers in and smiles, “Randy could you get out of

bed - I have something important to discuss with you.”

I open an eye and note her smile, “Okay. Just a second.” I then move to get out of bed

and look down and see my usual morning hard-on sticking several inches out of my

briefs. “No wonder she is smiling,” I conclude. I reach for a bathrobe.

The woman continues her stare, “Let’s go into the master bedroom, honey. You won’t

need a bathrobe.”

“Just a second, Margie, I’ll be there.” My step mother goes to the master bedroom

while I enter the bathroom in the hallway. I pull my briefs down and have to bend over to

get my penis to aim down so I can pee. I flush, then wash my hands, and step to the

sink for a few swipes of my comb through my hair.

I then walk into the master bedroom with my briefs on. I am still hard but my penis is


“Randy, you can leave the door open – no one is home. Sit here on the bed with me….

So Honey, your father has gone and we are going to be together again - this time for

six weeks. Did your father give you any instructions last night?”

“Yes, he said I should start calling you ‘Mom’ and do whatever you tell me.”

“What else did he tell you, dear?”

“He said he wanted to marry you Margarita, I mean ‘Mom’ and that you will teach me

the duties of a husband since he won’t be here. I am glad he wants to marry you

because you are nice.”

“Randy, what a kind thing to say. I know it is hard for you to think of me replacing your

mother and I don’t want you to think of me in that way. It is not my intention to remove

the memories of your dear mother.”

“I understand, Margie. But I miss her.”

“Of course you do. There is always a special bonding between mothers and sons.

Randy, under normal circumstances your role would change into a stepson if I marry

your father. However, because of his necessary travels your role would have to be

more like a husband’s. Did your father tell you about some of those duties that a

husband needs to perform?”

I clear my throat, “Yes, he said that the things that husbands and wives do in bed are

the most important. And that you would show me what to do. Plus, you want to have a


“You do know how babies are made, of course?”

“Sure, we had that in health science in school. They even showed us how to put

rubbers on bananas.”

“Randy, that is wonderful. I went to a Catholic school and they did not cover that. So we

had a lot of pregnancies and abortions. So how do you feel about becoming a

surrogate for your dad? Are you comfortable with it, honey? Wait. Don’t answer those

questions. They are too big for a 17 year-old young man to have to decide if he wants

to spend his adult years servicing his stepmother. What I suggest is that we just see

how it goes while your father is gone the next six weeks. We have plenty of time.

Would that be okay, baby?”

“Well, Mom, or honey, – isn’t that what husbands call their wives? You are an older

woman, and I am not saying ‘old’ but you are about twice my age. That scares me - if I

can be honest with you.

“Why don’t you call me ‘Margie’ like your father does? You can call me what you feel

like at the moment any name but I expect that eventually you will be most comfortable

with Margie. But if you ever feel the need of calling me ‘mother’ it is fine with me. Very

few women can have both a stepson and husband in one lover so you should make the

most of it. It does sound so sexual and I am a sexual being to my core. Of course, you

can’t use the words like: ‘wife,’ ‘honey’ or ‘baby’ when your father is around.”

[The change of the names which we address each other, such as, “Mom”, “Wife,”

“Honey,” “Honeycunt,” and “Margie” or “Son,”” Hubby,” “Lover,” and “Randy,” started

from this morning and continues through today. The name depends on our mood of the

moment and can change from one of our sentences to the next. By the way,

‘Honeycunt” was one we made up when she misheard me thinking this was the word I

used in addressing her. We kept it.]

“Sure, Mom, ah, Margie.”

“Randy, this will be new to me too. Yes, I am mature woman and experienced in sex.

But I have never been married before nor have I been a mother. I do know though that

Mother Nature will take her natural course with our physical relationship. Your dad

said, and I have seen it too, that boys and young men have a strong sex drive. I can tell

you that I am very sexual too. And I have a sense that you can learn quickly so I don’t

think that should be a problem. You should also know in addition to being

knowledgeable about sex I think you will find that I can be sensitive in educating a

young man on how to please a woman.”

I ponder her words and say, “I think I can trust you.”

“Okay. Now let’s get started. I will be right back and will show you what adult men and

husbands do.” She goes iannto the bathroom of the master bedroom and closes the


I hear the shower running. The door opens and Margie peeks out holding a towel over

her crotch while the other hand moves to cover part of a large bare globe. “Randy, why

don’t you get a shower too. See you in a few minutes.”

I think, “Jesus! My dad had told me this would happen last night but when I woke up

this morning I thought it must have been a dream. Maybe it is but I am going with it.”

I go to the bathroom in the hallway and then return after my quickest shower ever. I

bring dad’s fluffy white cotton bathrobe. I sit down on the bed and put the robe over my

lap so I won’t be embarrassed. When my mother was alive and I had to shower I would

go into the bathroom with my just my briefs or I scurried in nude just fast enough to let

mother see me but not so slow she would admonish me and tell me to get dressed. It

was kind of fun game we played since it was the only the two of us at home most of the

time. Eventually, I pushed it up to a half hour before she would say anything about my

exhibiting myself. She also stopped taking a robe to the shower but usually had on

lingerie. A few times she wore nothing. She enjoyed the game too and extended her

time parading herself. She was deservedly proud of her body. I think she was not really

concerned about modesty but had limits because she was afraid someone would drop

in unannounced. However, when Dad was home it was only for seconds or so mom

and I exhibited ourselves to each other.

I hear the water stop. I look to my lap to sure the white robe covers my boner.

The door opens and there is my stepmom- to- be in a skimpy blue baby-doll teddy.

What a sight to behold! - a tan-skinned Hispanic woman with beautiful breasts only

partially hidden. The top of the teddy has a sheer cloth dropping over her blue narrow

satin briefs.

“Now young man let’s get rid of this, shall we?” She steps forward, and as I stand she

grabs the robe.

“Oh Randy! Randy, baby, your cock is so nice. You take after your dad – it’s thick and

long too. The girls will be after you but I will have first shot. But we need to remove the

hair. I think it looks better without a lot, plus I don’t like to get hair in my teeth.”

I feel so exposed with someone other than deeased mother seeing me this way, “But

Mom, I play soccer and the guys will see me in the shower!”

“Oh, of course, then how about that I just give it a little trim, and remove the hair on the

inner thighs – is that okay, Randy? Let’s go into the bathroom.”

I need to follow Dad's instructions and cooperate. I stand up and as I walk to the

bathroom I am feeling light headed my is hard-on flopping back and forth. I am so


I see she has the scissors, razor and shaving cream laid out on the sink.”

“I’ll put the lid down now please sit on the stool. Thank you, dear…Now slide forward,

spread your legs. …Good, that is just right.”

Margie starts snipping the hair around my genitals. She then covers my penis with

foamy shaving cream. The coolness feels good. She takes the fingers of her left hand

and presses my bl**d-filled penis to the side. She then begins shaving the length of it

starting at its base. Mom’s head moves in closer to better see her work area.

“This is a new blade, Randy, so I will be extra careful. Your dad reminded me to be

careful using sharp new blades.” I am praying she will be careful with the new blade

because my arteries in my penis must be engorged with bl**d now and I think I would

bleed like a hemophiliac if she nicks me.

She holds the bulbous red head of my cock and in her other hand she holds the razor.

She does a slow 360 motion around it – each time starting at the base - up and down.

In about a dozen strokes my rod glistens. Then she retrieves the scissors and holds

my balls one at a time while with her two little fingers she pins my cock to my thigh.

She trims the brown hairs. By this time, I am feeling more pressure in my member.

“Does this feel okay, honey?”

“It feels great, Mother.” But I am not sure about containing myself.”

“Randy, this won’t take long. That sounds nice, ‘Mother.’ I think I can get used to being

a mother and a wife to you. If this works out, baby, this handsome prick of yours and

my pussy will get to know each other well….There! That should do it. Let’s put these

shaving tools to the side. She gives me a small smile then washes her hands in the


She continues, “Now, this morning I want to show you the primary duty a husband has

for his wife. “

I feel so loaded with cum.

“Now all we have to do is exchange places. But before we do that I should clarify that

what we are doing is not really i****t. Our biological DNAs are different. Even if I

should have a baby, and your dad is fine with that, there is no possibility of birth defect

because we are not genetically related. Do you understand that?”

I say, “Yes," but my thought is, “Jeez, she is talking about babies already!”

“Now, my big baby, come with me.”

I follow her to the bed.

“Please lie down.” She removes her top and out pop the most gorgeous tan tits,

centered with dark brown aureoles with some small tan spots on them. She tosses the

slinky top to the side on the bed. She puts her thumbs under her skimpy panty and

steps out of it - off to the side it goes. A glistening shaved and very protruding tan

mound is displayed. Although she has never been married she must have had lots of

experience [I realize now] in that her large labia were spread and separated by a wide

clitoral hood that went almost halfway down her pussy.

I realize, but don’t say, “No wonder my father wants to marry her, to possess that


“Can I get a handkerchief, Mother?”

“What? Whatever, baby. Just hurry back here!”

I went to the dresser and retrieved a handkerchief.

“Okay, son, now all you have to do is bend down a little and put your dick between

what are called ‘labia’ and push in.”

“Wait a minute, Mom.”

“Now what?”

“Don’t you want your massage first, Mom?”

“My massage?”

“Yes, my mother always had a massage first. She showed me how to give them on my

16th birthday telling me I was finally old enough to learn how to give them. From then

on it was what did together when she was sore after a long or stressful day - especially

when Daddy away. He was gone most of the time."

“Your gave your mother a massage first?!”

“What the heck? Of course, baby, you can massage me first.”

“Okay, Mom, please lie down on stomach.”

As Margie moves to lie down her large mammaries with their stiff thick brownish-pink

nipples hang down and offer a succulent view. Her tan calves, buttocks, and her taught

back with its deep crevice are so inviting even to a young man who is a novice at such


“Baby oil, okay, Mom?”

“Yes, Randy, feel free to be generous with it.”

I start on her toes on her left foot. I massage the little toe and then give it a quick jerk.

My fingers work their way through each toe with the same manipulation. My thumbs

then press into the sole and I move up and down her high arch. A soft moan comes

from the woman. The most important thing my mother taught me in giving a massage

was to take my time.

“Randy, this feels so nice.”

“Margie, we won’t tell Dad about this will we? Mom used to say it was just between


“Honey, I will not be your mother as much as I will be your wife. This is what husbands

and wives do for each other. Your dad understands this. He wants you to be my

surrogate husband if you are okay with it. I will not be discussing it with him any further

though. He is crushed that he has to let you take his place. He is just like other men

and hates to miss a good fuck. So your dad accepts this part of your new duties in the

house and he does not even want to think about it let alone either of us mention it.”

“Okay, Margie. That was the way it was with my mother too. Dad, Mom and I never

discussed what Mom and did when he was gone. Mom said she needed help from me

with stress which was aggravated by his absence. She would say she needed ‘help

getting the kinks out’ at the end of the day. Massages really seemed to help her.

Unfortunately she died a few months after my 16th birthday.”

“All women have kinks at times. Speaking of kinks can you slide your hands down the

outsides of my butt and see if you can reach under my front. My labia seem tight….

Ohhh, baby that is it!”

“More pressure on your back too, Margie?"

“Its perfect, hubby. [She feels the tip of my penis dragging up her back which is leaving

a trail of pre-cum.] You have such nice hands, dear. Oh, love the way you knead my


My thumbs go from her shoulders to the base of her neck and then up and through her

brown hair down to the bottom of her forehead. Using light pressure my thumbs draw

circles on her forehead.

“Ahhh,” she sighs.

“Margie, you can turn over now, please.”

“Darling, I am so comfortable I am not sure I can.”

She gradually rolls over and positions herself in the supine position. What beautiful

lightly tanned tits droop off to each side. The mature pussy is a site to behold. I lean

down to get another view from the side and appreciate the shiny curve of her

pronounced mound.

She lifts her head a little to see for the first time my manhood – a red, thick, 6 1/2” long,

circumcised cock. She thinks, “It is as big as his dad’s but with some use I’ll get that

dick stretched even more.”

I move to the foot of the bed. I place my hands at her feet once again and work on

each toe, just as I used to with my mother those three short months. I massage the

tops and then move to her ankles. Then I add more baby oil with a liberal sprinkling,

now onto her calves. I place the bottom of my palms together and press them into her

left shin, then slide my hands up over her knee cap and circle it. My hands continue up

her inner thigh with moderate pressure and stop when they meet her crotch. Then the

routine is repeated with her right stopping at the other side of the “V.” My rock hard

cock takes a jump when I observe that the woman’s juice is filling in the crevices on

both sides of the hood and down to the end of her slit.

With continued firm pressure my oily hands slowly ride up and over her mound - back

and forth several times. They pause, continue down to her stomach and then up,under

and around her left globe. I start again just below her mound and repeat the procedure

working my way up to the other globe. I alternate massaging each mammary for a

minute or two. Time is hard to determine since it seems like I am in a dream. My finger

draws a line around the edge of each aureole. The brown nipples are erect and rigid. I

softly pinch each. With my pointer finger, I dot each dark brown spot on aureole.

“Umm”, she moans. “Harder, harder! ....Oh God!”

I oblige with increased pressure and add twisting to each nipple…. I finally let go and

allow each breast to fall back.

I pause and with a soft voice I say, “Okay, Mom, here is the handkerchief.”

“What is it for honey?”

“At the end of Mom’s massage she oiled my penis and had me masturbate so I could

relax too. She would catch the semen in the handkerchief. She said boundaries were

important in families. So you could hold it then I could finish with myself?”

“Baby, that is when you were the son but now you are the husband so we won’t need to

do that anymore. I will show you how a woman can please a man with her mouth.”

“Sure, Margie.”

She looks at my partially erect penis now protruding way out since the hair has been

heavily trimmed away from my genitals. She says, “I like to oil it then rub it a little first.”

With the front part of her fingers she takes into her hand and starts a pumping action. I

see the light tan nude mature woman’s body gleaming from the oil I had applied. She

puts more baby oil on her hands and then grasps the base of my shaft once again and

resumes the action. She adds a slight twisting to the up and down all the while smiling

and looking into my eyes. Women seem to get extra pleasure from seeing themselves

exciting males.

She pauses, and removes her right hand and with her pointer finger traces the six-

back of my taught stomach muscles. I think, “Those exercises with the weights have

paid off for me.” Thinking of my own tight stomach muscles somehow transfers to a

feeling of tightness of the muscles supporting my cock and it then throbs again.

Her eyes follow her right hand back to my member. It looks and feels like it has grown

an inch or two.

I can see that she has some juice oozing from her shaven pussy. I think she must think I

will do as well as my dad. [I know one would expect a woman to say this but after Dad

died she told me this and the way she said it made me believe her.]

She continues in soft soothing voice, “We all need some time to adjust; even your dad

will need some time to get used to sharing some of his duties. I think your mother was

good to you and I hope to be as good. We can look forward to taking our physical and

social relationship even deeper.”

With the palm of one hand she pushes my chest back. “Lean all the way back for me,

honey. That’s good.”

She leans over and with her other hand she guides my cock to her mouth. She starts to

lick around the base of my cock. She moves up the greased pole and starts flicking

her tongue on the beet red head.

“Jesus, wife, if feels sooo good. Is that okay – should I call you ‘wife?” I see the bulge

of my organ encased in her cheek.

She opens her mouth releasing my penis and clears her throat, “Randy, baby, you can

call me whatever you want –‘wife,’ ‘darling, ‘slut’ or ‘cum-bucket,’ I don’t care when I

have this beautiful baby-maker in my mouth!”

She swoops down and vacuums in my cock again and takes it up to the hilt. Where

she finds room for it in her throat I don’t know. Her hands then drop to my ball sack.

My cock has a mind of its own now and starts pulsating. The woman’s eyes are wide

open and her thick red lips are flattened against my cock. Her mouth is on my shaft

sliding up and down - up and down helped by the lubrication of combined pre-cum and

oil. I have to ejaculate so badly so I start rocking my pelvis in rhythm with her.

Her mouth opens. Within seconds, I can bear it no more and a white stream leaves my

penis hole and flies up about a foot. “Oh God! Oh, God! Oh, my God.” Then a second

one about half way up. “Oooooh, my. Ooooh, my. Oh, my.” Both the third and forth

shots go about three or four inches. The remainder of cum lies on he head of my penis

and some drips onto my thigh.

I gasp for oxygen, my pelvis which was frozen in an arch, slowly relaxes. I begin to

doze off.

She later told me that she got so hot she soaked the sheet under her when she

realized this precious fluid would eventually give her a baby.

When I awake she tells me, “Honey, you were great and will get even better. You

should know that some would say women like me are sluts. But we have a need that

husbands or our men friends must satisfy. And, when they can’t, some women just dry

up and become old hags. That was not the lot for your mom and it is certainly not for

me. I love you and your dad and want to make you both happy.” She leans down and

kisses me, her new “husband” on the forehead.

Our story ends on a happy note, showing how a woman who had to face a difficult

decision was able to accept behavior, although unconventional, that gave her and her

man contentment as well as pleasure.

The end.
85% (14/3)
Categories: Mature
Posted by adel5000
3 years ago    Views: 1,786
Comments (3)
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2 years ago
This story is pure sex talk, perversion-talk, lust and foreplay--and a slight degree of imagination, that never occurs!
3 years ago
very good
3 years ago
This is almost the same story I read on another site two weeks ago posted by another author. Names, details, etc were almost the same. Something "fishy" going on here!