I broke up with my girlfriend in early September and and went back "home" to my Dad's place. I hated it. Of course, I missed the endless fucking and the sex games I'd enjoyed with my girlfriend, with her dressed as a nurse or a maid. I also missed the girlie things like knickers and bras s**ttered around our bedroom, but above all I hated it because I'd never really got on with my Dad since I was a teen. In fact, I really disliked him. But I was desperate for a place to stay and so swallowed my pride and asked if I could stay a few days. You see my Mom had blamed him for the break-up of the... Continue»
I broke up with my girlfriend in early September and and went back "home" to my Dad's place. I hated it. Of course, I missed the endless fucking and the sex games I'd enjoyed with my girlfriend, with her dressed as a nurse or a maid. I also missed the girlie things like knickers and bras s**ttered around our bedroom, but above all I hated it because I'd never really got on with my Dad since I was a teen. In fact, I really disliked him. But I was desperate for a place to stay and so swallowed my pride and asked if I could stay a few days. You see my Mom had blamed him for the break-up of their marriage by playing around in the Philippines. She said he'd had numerous girls when we living out there and got one of them pregnant. And he'd always been busy with his work, so Ild never really developed any sort of relationship with him.
I knew he'd got married again about a year ago, but I hadn't been invited to the wedding. All my Mom knew was that she was some "old tart" he'd met at work, and that she had teenage c***dren. So I guess I was a bit surprised when I discovered that she was only about 35-years-old. She was also quite attractive and obviously looked after her figure. All I thought when I caught sight of her for the first time was, "you lucky old bastard". I'd thought she was about the same age as Dad - who's 58 now. But, I guess, because they'd only been married about 12 months that she thought I was going to spoil their love nest, and so I tried to keep out of her way for the first few days back at the old f****y home.
I soon discovered that their sex life was a lot more vigorous than it had been between Mom and Dad. It seemed that every night I'd be woken up about 2 am by the sound of them fucking in their bedroom across the landing. And by going into the shower room, next the their bedroom, I was able to hear every little whisper that passed between them in their sex. It was as if I could enter into their most secret moments. So the closeness or distance between them at the breakfast table the next morning could often be explained by the relative success or failure of their time spent in the bedroom. Isn't it always? One night after they'd been out for a celebration, for instance, I heard them starting to fuck and so crept across to the shower room and heard her angry tone when he'd cum in her hair - her new hair-do. The next morning's silence across the breakfast table was therefore explained. Or when they were cuddly with each other, it usually followed her having had a number of orgasms after he'd licked her for what seemed like hours. Through the shower room wall I could hear his tongue licking at her juices.
I became desperate to know every little detail about their sex life. And so when they were out, I went through their wardrobe and bedside cabinets and drawers. And there I found all sorts of sex toys, some of which I guess he'd brought back from abroad because I'd never seen them on sale here. There were the usual love beads and love eggs, and a couple of vibrators and clitoral stimulators. And in the wardrobe there were a number of fifties-style petticoats and skirts, together with corsets and black stockings in the side drawers.
So now, after my discovery, whenever I saw my Step Mom around the house, all I could think about was her other life - dressed in her petticoat and corsets ready to take Dad's cock - or Dad slowly taking out the love beads from her pussy. I started to really want her, looking longingly at her knickers on the washing line, or going through the dirty laundry to find her soiled knickers - and then using them to masturbate with. I would stand and watch her as she pegged out the washing, looking at her breasts rising as she raised her arms to place the items on the line. Or watching her vacuum the carpets on the stairs, looking up and desperately trying to get a glimpse up her skirt. I wanted to see her naked, to get my cock insider her, to enjoy what Dad was enjoying....
TO BE CONTINUED.