Breeding My Reluctant Stepdaughter
Harper Thrush
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Breeding My Reluctant Stepdaughter
Copyright 2013 Harper Thrush
Cover Image: mettus / 123RF Stock Photo
Smashwords Edition
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License Notes, Smashwords Edition
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for the recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, actual events or locales is purely coincidental. All characters who engage in sexual acts are 18 years of age or older.
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Breeding My Reluctant Stepdaughter
“Dad! Get out!”
Oh, shit.
I slam the bathroom door, muttering a vague “Sorry, sorry…” Shaking my head, I try to erase the flash of bare skin from my memory, but only manage to imprint it even deeper. The scene plays on a loop in my mind as I walk stiffly away… My stepdaughter clutching a towel to her wet, naked torso. Desperately trying to cover her tits.
Holy mother of God.
I was not expecting that body. Again I see her surprised face, her bare breasts jiggling in slow motion as she jerks up the towel. Her nipples are like tiny rosebuds. So delicate, puffing outward, flushed from the heat of the shower. Now she’s cupping them with the terrycloth in her hands, cradling her generous cleavage.
“Dad!” she shouts. “Get out!” In her haste to hide her tits, she doesn’t notice that she jerked the towel up too high. I can see her little virgin pussy, sensitive pink lips spread just a touch. Damp curls of blonde hair, beads of moisture running down her inner thigh…
My cock is pulsing in my hand. I’m in my bedroom now, panting as I jerk off into a sock. Harder and faster as I imagine Ellie’s legs parting, my finger slipping into the warm, aching crevice between them. Pushing apart her pussy lips, fucking her virgin hole. Teasing her open. God, I can practically taste her…
“Daddy,” she cries softly, begging for my thick, seven-inch shaft. I bite my lip, speeding up the rhythm of my self-pleasuring strokes as I imagine breaching her for the first time. Penetrating her with my big cock, feeling the soft weight of her tits as I fuck her senseless. Spilling my seed deep inside her fertile, unprotected cunt. Impregnating her.
Fuck the consequences.
Suddenly jizz is spurting out over my hand, running in sticky rivulets down my wrist. My body shudders with temporary relief, muscles twitching and my breath catching as I mop up the spilled cum.
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter, knees shaky and weak as I try to walk over to the dirty clothes hamper to dispose of the sock. “What did I just do?”
As my heart rate slows and my breathing returns to normal, I tuck my drained balls back into my jeans and collapse on my bed. I am one sick bastard, I think, as my head finally clears.
Ellie turns her stereo on, blasting cheesy pop music through the thin walls of our house and into my pounding temples. She’s probably embarrassed, wants to hide in her room. Fine with me. I have a feeling I’m going to be seeing her differently from now on, and I’m not quite sure whether I’m looking forward to it.
*
It’s two days before Ellie finally shows her face at the breakfast table. Her mother jumps up to give her a hug.
“You know, just because you’re on summer vacation doesn’t mean you get to lounge around in bed and never come out of your room. What is it, boy trouble?”
My heart skips a beat, and I stare hard at the newspaper unfolded on my knee. Try to choke down some orange juice. But Ellie just glances at me briefly before she shakes her head. “No. Nothing like that.”
Of course not. Ellie never has boy trouble.
She’s a mousy girl, hair pulled back into a bun and thick glasses always sliding down her nose. The very essence of a female nerd. She dresses conservatively, in comfortable, baggy sweaters that look like they come from the men’s department. Tweed, knee-length skirts she probably found in a bin at Goodwill.
But holy shit, what she’s hiding…
I lick my lips, praying to God with ever fiber of my being to release me from this sinful, unnatural lust. Jesus, please. I can barely look at her… I sternly order myself to forget, to stop picturing her lush, virgin body. But I can’t. And now I’m praying instead that my spontaneous erection isn’t obvious.
“John, what are your plans?”
My head jerks up involuntarily at the sound of my name. My wife, Susan, is smiling at me across the breakfast table. Ellie’s nose is buried in a book.
“What, honey?”
“After work,” she says. “Do you have any plans?”
“Uh…” I check my watch, flustered. Too aware of my urgent arousal hidden just under the table. “No, no plans.”
“Do you mind if I drive to Stamford with the girls? There’s a big sale on at one of the department stores.”
“Go ahead.”
“Really?” Susan grins. “You know how we get when we’re out shopping… I might not be back until late.”
“Honestly, it’s fine. There’s a football game I want to watch anyway.”
No there’s not. It’s the middle of fucking July.
Luckily Susan doesn’t have a clue. She just clears the table, chattering about this and that as Ellie shoots me a confused glance. “Football?” she mouths. I shake my head, and she shrugs, turns back to her book.
Finally Susan heads out the door, hurriedly snatching up her purse and kissing me goodbye on the forehead. I feel guilty, but I’m glad to have her out of my hair while I try to figure this Ellie thing out. Can’t help breathing a sigh of relief when my wife is finally gone.
“Don’t you have to go to work?” snaps Ellie.
“Not for another half hour or so.” I take a bite of dry toast, trying to ignore the pulsing heat in my groin. Force myself to block out the sight of my stepdaughter’s trembling red lips, the curls of wispy blonde hair at the nape of her neck…
“Maybe you should get to the office early. See if you can walk in on your secretary when she’s going to the bathroom.”
I slam my newspaper down, exasperated. “It was an accident, Eleanor. I’m sorry it happened, but you have to let it go.”
She shakes her head, eyes glued to her book as she hunches her shoulders. Shielding her body from view. “I can’t. I saw how you looked at me…”
“Oh? How did I look at you? Enlighten me.”
Ellie frowns, stumbling over her words. “I don’t know, you just… You looked. You saw.”
“Well, I’m not blind. You should lock the damn door next time, if you don’t want people walking in on you naked.”
I can’t believe how defensive I’m getting. I don’t sound like a mature adult with a mortgage and an eighteen-year-old stepdaughter… more like a whiny teenager whose mom has just found a stash of Playboys under his mattress.
Meanwhile, Ellie’s big blue eyes are leaking tears. Her breath comes in gulps as she stammers, “Please just leave. Just go away!”
“What, are you afraid to be alone with me or something? You think I’m gonna come on to you?”
Ellie shakes her head, pressing the heavy book to her
chest as she shoves her chair away from the table and thunders upstairs. I hear her door slam. Great, now I’ve humiliated her. A frisson of unexpected pleasure surges through my shaft at that thought, causing me to groan. God, I’m such a fucking pervert. My hand drifts down to my fly, but I stop myself, setting my strong jaw.
No.
I will not allow this sudden, overwhelming obsession to go any further. I’m going to splash some cold water on my face, think about baseball, and drive myself to work.
Where I will most certainly not masturbate on my lunch break.
*
My erection finally flags halfway to the office, but the erotic buzz never entirely leaves my body. I’m fidgety the whole day, feeling tension surge through my fingers as I type out a legal brief, heat building in my lips as I twist them in concentration. I snap at my secretary for putting too much sugar in my coffee.
I should buy her something, I think, my scattered brain barely managing to form a coherent thought. A thank you gift for putting up with my cranky outburst.
So I go out on my lunch break and find a cute coffee mug with a smiley face on it, have it gift wrapped with an apology note. As I silently congratulate myself on being such a considerate boss, another display catches my eye, winking at me from the corner of the store. A knot tugs in my chest…
“I shouldn’t,” I mumble.
But at the last second I make a lunge for one of the items on the display, asking the confused cashier to ring it up for me. Hear the bell tinkle as I leave, calling pervert, pervert, pervert after me as I trudge away with my shopping bag.
By the time I get back to the office, I’m late for a meeting. I leave the gift-wrapped mug on my secretary’s desk, hide the other item in my briefcase and sneak into the conference room. The rest of the day is pure torture. Whenever I’m called on to speak, I have to swallow around the lump in my throat. All of the senior partners are working on some big environmental case right now, something to do with a company polluting a river upstate, and all the lawyers on staff are expected to pitch in with ideas and strategy.
But all I can see are Ellie’s luscious titties, the tantalizing curves of her body… I lick my lips and try to breathe slowly. Try not to imagine how her warm, wet mouth would feel around my cock, fingers reaching up to lightly cup my ball sack… God, I’m completely useless.
“Harrison! You with us?”
I snap out of it just in time to realize that one of the senior partners is waiting for me to say something.
“Uh…”
“The June deposition?”
“Right, right…” I shuffle my papers, attempting to feign interest. “Definitely an important point. Should be brought up during cross examination.”
I literally have no idea what I’m saying. But one of my eager beaver colleagues decides to jump in with an actual informed opinion, letting me off the hook. I excuse myself to take a piss, raking my hands through my hair and reminding myself to breathe as I stalk lightheaded through the close hallway. Smile and wave at my secretary as I walk past the lounge; she’s drinking tea out of her new mug, showing it off while she chats with a paralegal.
I pass the bathroom. Duck into my office to grab my briefcase and the keys to my car. Sunshine warms my face as I stumble out into the cement-and-chrome brightness of the parking lot. Fuck. I flip my wrist, checking the time on my watch. It’s only 3:30.
Right now I don’t give a shit. My mind is still reeling from my conversation with Ellie this morning. I’m afraid she hates me; my chest is tightening up thinking about the horrified look on her face when she sputtered, “Just go away!”
The ache in my gut is getting stronger, knees bending weakly as I drop into the cool leather seat of my Benz. My heart is pounding like a freight train. I’ve got to see her. I’ve got to go home and apologize.
I stick the key in the slot and rev the engine once before I put it in gear and back out of my parking space. Obviously nothing could ever happen between us. It’s absurd, just the idea of us together… I’m married, for one.
To her mother, my stupid brain unhelpfully supplies. Married to her fucking mother. And she’s only eighteen, still in high school. No way she’d ever look at an old guy like me.
Not to mention the fact that I’m her fucking stepfather. I take a long, deep breath at a stoplight, trying to calm myself before I turn onto our street. Sweat dampens my forehead, hands restless on the wheel. My left foot taps a staccato rhythm into the floor of the car while my right guns it in response to the green light, whipping around the turn. Speeding toward our driveway.
“She’s probably not even home,” I mutter to myself, tires screeching as I pull in. “Probably at the library, or maybe she took her book to the park. I should probably just go back to work.”
But I turn the engine off and get out of the car, unsteady legs somehow carrying me up our front walk as my hands fumble with the keys. I don’t even know what I’m going to say to her. My head is spinning as I push the door open.
“Ellie?”
Nothing. Silence.
I breathe out a sigh of relief, stomach unknotting slightly. But I can feel myself cocooned in smothering tension, a constant ache that eats away at my gut. I can’t believe I’m so nervous. I’m her father, after all. What I say goes.
“Hey, El? You home?” I drop my keys and shrug my broad shoulders out of my suit jacket, draping it across the banister. No response. She really must have left.
Just as well.
I have to get this thing out of my system, and I’m starting to think the only way to do that is just to fucking masturbate it away. Spill all my demons down the shower drain, or mop them off my abs with a tissue. Let the illicit fantasies pulse out of me until there’s nothing left.
Pounding up the stairs to the bedroom I share with Susan, I imagine what Ellie’s body would feel like under my hands, soft and yielding. I picture her long eyelashes fluttering as I graze her exposed neck with my teeth, tonguing her. Running my hand up under her long, blonde hair. My chest expands; I can feel my cheeks flush as I put a few fingers down to brush at the stubborn erection that’s popped up again in my trousers.
No one’s home, and I’m desperate. I unzip in the hallway. Can’t wait. Take my burning cock in my hand as I fling open to door to my bedroom.
Where Eleanor is lying on my bed, sleeping, with her book open across her stomach.
Fuuuuuuck.
I stand still in the doorway, hardly daring to breathe. She’s peaceful, all soft lines and boneless contentment, one hand curled under the lace fringe of Susan’s pillow. Hair spread out in a golden fan. I can’t take my eyes off her.
What the hell is she doing in my bedroom? I suppose our mattress is soft, and the bed is big and easy to spread out on, with warm sunlight pooling on the coverlet. Tempting location for a nap.
I realize my cock is still in my hand. My chest tightens with fear that she’ll wake up, and at the same time a stab of desire rips through me. Her white neck is exposed, pulse fluttering as she sighs softly in her sleep. I can see her breasts rise and fall under her oversized sweater. My fingers grip my shaft tighter. I begin to stroke myself.
Quietly, I move forward, not quite sure what I’m doing. My eyes take in everything, the supple bend at her knee, a flash of exposed thigh. Young, pink lips murmuring nonsense syllables. My heart is pounding, fingertips trembling.
I wonder if I dare. My head screams at me to stop moving, but my aching cock is pulling me forward.
I could put my hands on her… Jack off while I watch her sleep. No one would ever know.
My left hand is itching to reach out and graze her skin. Feel the warmth of her virgin body under my fingers. Before I know it I’m standing over her, just inches from her head. I can feel the damp heat, know she’ll wake up in a too-warm daze, skin flushed and eyelids heavy with sleep. I want to touch her so badly.
Just once, I tell myself. Just barely.
I reach out with my shaking hand and brush
the soft swell of her right breast. The threads in her sweater graze my fingertips so softly, it’s as though I’m trapped in a dream. But then she inhales deeply, moaning in her sleep, and her chest rises as her lungs fill with air… Her breast leaps into my palm, warm and pliant. I can feel the slight padding in her bra.
My heartbeat is ringing in my ears. I don’t dare move my hand for fear that she’ll wake. But she doesn’t, and the moan ebbs out of her throat as she falls back down on the coverlet, smiling.
And I’m still touching her. I grow bolder, squeezing her breast softly. White heat swells in my cock and my breath hitches; I could cum like this. Jizz would splash out across her face, sticky drops falling on her lips. I can’t choke back a moan as I imagine the pink tip of her tongue darting out to lick them off…
Woah. Careful. Remember what a precarious situation you’re in.
But I can’t bring myself to break away. Instead I stand rigid, staring at her face for any signs of wakefulness as I grope her chest. I draw my hand in between her tits, feeling both of them in turn. Stroking my erect cock as I trace her hip bone through the heavy sweater. Finally feel my fingers on the sensitive skin of her thigh.
Barely breathing, I slide my hand up her skirt. It’s warm down here, and every nerve in my body is singing as my fingers slip between her legs, closer to the soft mound hidden beneath her layers of baggy clothing. My pointer finger just grazes it… a delicate swell under her cotton panties. And I can’t go any farther without forcing my fingers in too deep.
Just a little bit more… She’s curled up near the side of the bed; my waist is at her chin. I arch my back. Adjust my feet and lean as I guide my cock to her lips.
The moment the sensitive head of my penis touches her soft, sleepy mouth, a shudder rolls through me. I’ve never done this before – never tried to get off on a girl without her knowledge. That thought combined with the fact that she’s my stepdaughter makes my chest expand, heart pounding against my ribcage, and I feel like I’m going to burst into flames. All the taboos I’m violating… Fuck.
I put a little pressure on her lips, causing her to moan slightly. The vibrations tickle up my shaft, and fucking Jesus Christ I’m so hard already, weeping precum into the corner of her closed mouth. She parts her lips automatically, and I use that moment of relaxation to push in farther. Her mouth is a haven of wet, plush heat, and if she doesn’t take more of my cock, I’m going to go insane. I mean it. I will go crazy if I don’t get to push my dick inside her. I need to get my fucking hands on her right now.
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