When she sat down with me to talk about “s-e-x,” back when I was in sixth grade, she explained everything pretty well, but she made the actual act sound like it was a horror movie. The whole thing, in her eyes, was shrouded in shame and filth, and since I was only twelve, it did sound disgusting. Plus, there was always this huge shameful risk of getting pregnant. Making that promise to my mom was a piece of cake.
I was seriously wishing I could take it back now, looking at all these horny couples in my house.
“What’ya thinking about, Amabelle?”
Justin’s voice startled me. He was my sort-of-boyfriend. We’ve been going out for about two months now, and he clearly wanted to do more than just kissing.
“Oh, nothing. Just dreading all the cleaning up I’ll have to do after this party is over. My mom would kill me if she found out.”
His hand wrapped around my waist, and he stumbled closer to me, leaning his forehead against mine. He was drunker than I was.
“Wanna go to your bedroom and play around until everyone leaves? I’ll help you clean up, I promise.”
“Oh, yeah? And what do I have to do to earn that kind of free help?”
“Let’s just play and see what happens?”
My head swam a little, and I decided to throw all caution to the wind. After all, Justin knew that I wanted to stay a virgin, so he wouldn’t force me into anything I didn’t want to do.
We managed to make it to my bedroom without falling, and once there, he locked the door and fell into my bed.
“Come here, babe, let me snuggle with you.”
I collapsed next to him, and we clumsily made out for a few minutes. His movements were slow, and I was hoping that he would fall asleep soon. I didn’t want to deal with a drunk boyfriend.
His hand rummaged under my tank top, stopping at my bra clasp in the back. I didn’t think he would be able to unfasten it, since he was so wasted, but a few seconds later he managed, and he was now pawing my perky breasts. I couldn’t deny it, whatever he was doing felt great. My nipples hardened, and I put my hand over his, encouraging him to squeeze my firm round mounds even harder.
“Your tits are so perfect, do you know that?” he whispered in my ear.
“Ew, don’t call them “tits”! That’s disgusting.”
“Okay, okay, how about “breasts”? Your breasts are perfect.”
“Much better,” I managed between my gasps. He was making me all wet between my legs.
I knew my breasts were ideal — I stared at them in the mirror countless times since they had fully developed. They were a full round B-cup, perky and bouncy, with puffy dark areola, and super sensitive nipples. I played with them often, so I knew just how perfect and responsive they were.
One of his hands slid down my belly and under the loose waistband of my shorts. He was inching closer and closer to my sex, and I held my breath, not wanting to stop him.
“What are you doing, Justin?” I forced myself to say.
“Just touching, babe. I won’t put anything inside.”
I was finding it hard to breathe. My pussy soaked with sticky juices, and I wanted him to put something inside more than anything. His finger glided over my clit, and I almost jumped.
“Ah, ah … please, be careful.”
“You like that? You like my finger down there?” He kept rubbing my sensitive nub, making me arch my back and roll my hips towards his hand.
“Yeah, babe, right there, just like that. Rub it a little harder, right there.” I was trying to get him to stop moving his finger around so much, but it seemed he was unable to concentrate on what was giving me the most pleasure. He was too inexperienced.
Finally, I stuck my hand into my shorts, placing it over his fingers, and guided him to where it mattered most. Pressing on top of his finger and regulating the pressure, I was able to control the stimulation just right. I didn’t even know exactly what I was doing, but I could tell what made me squirm the most, and I didn’t want it to end. After a few seconds of aggressive kneading, my clit swelled up and almost exploded, making me cry out and shudder in some kind of a release.
Whoa! What just happened? I was shaking.
“Babe, did you just come?” Justin was dumbfounded.
“Yeah, I think I did,” I breathed out. I still wasn’t sure. Nothing like that has ever happened to me.
He pulled his hand out of my shorts and brought his finger to his mouth.
“It’s almost like I went down on you,” he grinned, licking his sticky digit.
“Almost.” My orgasm was quieting down, and I wanted to be by myself. I was confused about what had just happened, not knowing if I had crossed the line. Was I still a virgin? Did his finger somehow penetrate me? I realized I knew nothing about the art of a female climax, and I didn’t know if I could ask anyone about it. Maybe I could somehow look it up online, after everyone left.
“Babe, can you get everyone out? It’s kind of late, and my parents are coming home early tomorrow. I have to clean up.”
“You’re calling them your parents? That guy is not your dad. He’s way younger than your mom, isn’t he?”
“Yeah, he is. It’s just easier to refer to them as parents, now that they are married. I haven’t discussed it with him if he wants me to call him “daddy.” I don’t have a problem with that if he does. Never really had a father anyway.”
“Alright, princess, you just relax here, and I’ll get everyone to go home. I’ll be back soon.” He stumbled out, barely able to walk straight, and I was sure that he would pass out before he completed the task.
My orgasm had somehow made me more tired than I was before. I was struggling to stay awake now, trying to figure out what to do next. I definitely had to clean up the house, or I would never hear the end of it from my mom. After that I was going to look things up online, although I would have to do it quickly and then erase my search history. Randy was some kind of a computer engineer, so I was sure he could catch me. Right now though, I’m just gong to close my eyes for a second. Just for a second.
Next thing I knew, someone was shaking me awake.
*****
“Amabelle, wake up,” it was Randy’s voice.
I tried to open my eyes, but the bright light from the window gave me an instant searing headache, and I moaned.
“Wake up, party girl.”
That’s when I jumped, hitting my forehead against Randy’s. Oh, shit. What happened? I must’ve fallen asleep last night, before I could clean up.
“I’m so sorry, it’ll never happen again. It was just a one-time thing.” I tried to get up, but my head was still in a fog.
“Are you talking about the mess all over the house? Including our master bedroom?” Randy was smiling. Maybe he wasn’t too mad. But where was mom? I was so confused.
He must’ve read my question. “You’re in luck, I came home by myself. Your mom was called in to work, some kind of a crisis at the bank, so they needed her.” He helped me get up and pushed me into the bathroom. As I tried to brush my teeth, I saw him pick up empty glasses and plates from the floor.
“I’m so sorry, Randy,” I tried to mumble through my toothbrush.
“Just get cleaned up, and we’ll figure out what to do here. Take a shower, I’ll be in he living room.”
I quickly showered and changed into a clean tank top and a pair of shorts. I didn’t even bother with my bra or underwear, since I didn’t know when my mom would be coming home. I had to hurry and get the place spotless before she returned.
When I came out to the living room, it didn’t look as bad as I thought it would. Randy had picked up all the garbage and was now vacuuming the floor. The kitchen sink was full of dishes, so I ran over and started washing them — we didn’t have a dishwasher.
For the next hour, we didn’t say a word to each other. Randy vacuumed all the rooms where the guests had visited, changed the sheets in the master bedroom, and took out the garbage. I got everything else straightened out and in orde
r. The house looked pristine.
I found him slumped on the living room sofa; his eyes were closed, as if he were taking a nap. I walked over and sat on the floor next to him. I had to thank him somehow. What we did in less than an hour was incredible. I could’ve never done it without his help.
“Randy?” I touched his forearm lightly.
“Yes, Amabelle?”
“Thank you for helping me clean up,” I paused, contemplating if I should say the next thing that was at the tip of my tongue. Somehow, I thought, it would please him. “You’re the best step daddy a girl could wish for.” I held my breath, waiting for his reaction.
“Just call me daddy, Amabelle. I hate the term step daddy.” His eyes were still shut, but he put his hand over mine, stroking it lightly.
“Okay, daddy. Thank you.” My heart fluttered when he touched my hand, and I didn’t want to move. “Will you tell mom about what happened?”
“Well, that depends. How naughty were you last night? Our bed was all crumpled. Did you have sex in it?”
“No, daddy! I’m still a virgin!” Or at least I hoped I was.
He was suddenly curious. Propping himself up on his elbow, he turned to me, completely awake.
“Are you? A virgin?” He seemed shocked.
“I am, daddy. I made a promise to mom a few years ago.”
“I guess it makes sense. She wouldn’t sleep with me either, until we got married.”
My suspicions were true — my mother held out until the wedding. I guess she really believed in the whole “no sex until marriage” routine.
Randy lay back, mumbling under his nose, “What a waste of a wait that was.”
What? Did he just allude to sex with my mom? Gross!
“What do you mean, daddy? You didn’t like it?”
“Well, you’re too innocent for this kind of a talk. It’s my problem, not yours. Your mom is a great lady.” He paused. “I just wish I had talked her into doing it before we got married.”
“So you think it’s a bad idea to wait? You think it’s wrong?”
He sat up and patted the seat next to him, inviting me to settle next to him.
“I understand where your mom is coming from, as far as religious values and all that.” Somehow I had a feeling he did not really understand, but he probably had to say that, since he married my mom. “But it’s also important to know if the partners are … sexually compatible.”
“What does it mean, daddy?”
He leaned over me and brushed a lock of my hair off my shoulder. His face was right in front of mine. “It means that if the two people don’t like the same things — sexual things — it’s just not gonna work.” His fingers were now gliding along my neck, his thumb stroking my chin.
“So you’re saying you and mommy don’t enjoy the sex in the same way?” My voice was barely above whisper. I didn’t want to disturb what he was doing. I was ready to melt in his hands.
“That’s right, Amabelle. Your mom doesn’t feel sex is all that important. But I do.” His thumb was now brushing against my lips, and I parted them, involuntarily. I couldn’t speak. “So, you being a virgin may be a good idea for now. But later, when you find someone who may be right for you, it might be the right thing to do to have sex with them before you got married. Just so you know that you and him are going to be compatible.”
“I have to ask you something, daddy. Promise you won’t get mad.”
“I promise. What is it?” He stopped stroking me, and I wished I hadn’t asked my question. But it was burning me on the inside, so I had to find out.
“My boyfriend Justin, he … put his hand down there last night.” I was turning red. “I don’t know how to tell if he did anything to my … you know … hymen.”
“Did it hurt when he did it?” Randy eyebrows came together, and he wrinkled his forehead. “What exactly did he do? Did you give him a permission to do it?” Now he was getting mad.
“Oh, it didn’t hurt. And I definitely allowed him to do it. It was really kind of nice.” I blushed again, I was so nervous. “It tickled. It was really pleasant, actually. But now I’m all scared that he may have done something there.”
“Well, Amabelle. There is only one way to find out.” He slid off the sofa and settled on the floor. “I have to take a look.”
“But what if mom comes back?”
“I have her car. She said she would call me when she was done, so I can go pick her up.”
“Okay, if you think that’s the only way…”
He grabbed the edges of my shorts and tugged them down. “It is, baby. It is.”
When he saw that I wasn’t wearing any underwear, he almost choked, but continued to pull my shorts off.
“Spread you legs, baby, and scoot down to the edge. Just like that.”
His fingers parted my lower lips, and I wanted to die from embarrassment. All this talk of sex made me so wet that I could feel the sticky fluid trickling down onto the sofa. He pushed my legs wider apart and inserted a tip of his finger inside my canal.
“What are you doing, daddy?” I knew he wasn’t supposed to put anything inside.
“Just trying to open it up, baby. It’s all sticky down here,” he smirked.
His finger kept gliding along my labia, up towards my clit, and I had to gasp. It felt so nice. I arched my back, wanting him to continue touching my sensitive nub, yet knowing that it was all wrong, so wrong.
“Should we stop, daddy? I don’t think mom would like it if she found out what we’re doing here.”
“She won’t find out, will she? I won’t tell her.” He pinched my clit as he said it, and I moaned.
“I won’t tell her, daddy. Just don’t stop.”
He spread my lower lips once again and gasped. “There it is, baby. Your membrane. Tight and intact, like it’s supposed to be.” He skimmed the tip of his finger against it, and I wanted to cry, it felt so good.
“Do it again, daddy. That felt really nice.”
“If I keep playing with it, it might rip, you know.”
“Oh. Okay. I should probably be more careful.” I really didn’t want him to stop.
“Do you know what an orgasm is, Amabelle?”
“I’m not sure. Last night, with Justin, when he kept rubbing me, it felt crazy good at the end. I think I maybe had an orgasm then.”
He reached up and lowered the edges of my tank top, exposing my breasts. His eyes got big, and he grabbed one of my pert mounds, massaging it. His hands felt rough, much harsher than Justin’s, and I moaned, not wanting him to stop.
“Let me show you what a real orgasm is like.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea, daddy?”
“Don’t worry, baby.”
And I didn’t. Worry was the last thing on my mind when he brought me to a thundering climax a few minutes later, licking my clit and inserting the tips of his fingers into my pussy.
Unfortunately, my mother called just as I was coming, so he had to leave.
*****
We tried to avoid each other all week. I couldn’t tell if Randy regretted what he did; plus, I felt a tremendous amount of guilt about what happened. He was my mom’s husband! How could I do that to her? It was all so wrong. My mind was in a turmoil, so avoiding him seemed like the easiest thing to do.
The next Saturday my mom was was asked to work again, and I decided to sleep in. I was in the shower, when I heard the knock on my bathroom door. It could only be Randy.
“Yes … daddy?”
“Can I come in? We need to talk.”
“But I’m naked.”
“I know. That’s why I want to see you now.” Before I could answer, he entered. “I’m gonna come into the shower with you, Amabelle.”
“What? Why?” I stood there, not knowing what to do, yet excited about what might happen. I’ve been thinking about that oral orgasm he gave me all week. Is he going to do that again, here in the shower?
The glass door opened, and he came in, naked �
� and fully aroused. I had to suck in my breath when I saw his cock. It was as thick as a soda can, and probably about eight inches long.
“Don’t worry, baby, I’m not gonna put it in you. I just want you to touch it.” He reached for my hand and placed it on his rigid member, holding it and gliding it along his length.
I couldn’t believe what was happening. I was touching a real, fully erect, huge cock. Oh my God. I couldn’t even wrap my fingers around it.
“Do you want me to just glide it between your legs? I won’t put it in, I promise.”
“I’m scared, daddy. What if it slides in? It’s kind of slippery in here.”
“Just turn around, baby. Stand here, against the wall. If I glide it from the back to the front, it won’t slip into your pussy. I promise.”
I followed his instructions and spread my legs, about shoulder width apart. His massive cock probed between my buttocks and slid lower, brushing against my labia and extending all the way to the clit. It felt unbelievably good. I grabbed the tip of his cock from the front and pressed it against my sensitive nub, feeling the thrill going down my spine. Maybe he could even make me come just by rubbing me like that?
“Oh, daddy, it feels so good. I wish you could put it inside me.” I’ve been secretly dreaming about having his cock take my virginity all week. But I still wasn’t ready.
“I can put it in here, baby.” He inserted a tip of his finger into my tight rosebud opening, and I gasped. “That way you’ll still be a virgin. We can have fun, until you’re ready for more.”
“Really? Is that what people do? Have sex … in the butt?”
“Sometimes. It’s a lot of fun. Do you wanna try it?”
“Okay. But if it hurts, promise me you’ll stop.”
“I promise.” He reached for a soap and lathered it over his swollen dick. “You just try to relax, baby. It won’t hurt too much if you don’t clench.”
His cock pushed against my tight rear opening, and I tried to calm down. I was so nervous.
Anything for the Man of the House: Ten Brats who Learn how to Behave Page 10
