by Wild, Nikki
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STEP DESIRE
“Whatcha lookin’ at, princess?”
Tasha glanced over her shoulder at her stepfather standing near the cabin of his yacht. Through the sepia-toned shades of her tortoiseshell sunglasses, he looked the spitting image of one of those dapper dandies from the Victorian era posing for a photo. He was a classically handsome man, his dark hair parted to one side and combed neatly into place, his facial hair meticulously trimmed and his blue eyes sparkling like the water they sailed upon.
Victorian men would never be photographed wearing his ensemble, though. Her stepfather was wearing nothing but a pair of black swim trunks, the rest of his sun-kissed body bared for all the world to see.
But that was just it—this was for Tasha’s eyes only. No one else was around. They were alone, drifting in the ocean where it could only be the two of them enjoying their father-daughter vacation.
She gripped the rail just a little tighter as her gaze wandered over his hard, broad pecs, his corded shoulders, the way his biceps bulged and furled as he crossed his arms over his chest. Then her eyes drifted just a shade lower, admiring the shadowy ripples of his abs, the Adonis lines pointing the way to the forbidden fruit between his hips, a package she had often wondered about, and yet never partaken of.
That would be wrong, she told herself, but in an ironic way, a way that made her lick her lips and stare all the more, trying to burn away those trunks with the heat of her glare. But I bet it would feel so right…
Their situation had been a unique one since her mother had left. Blake was only her second husband. Now she was on her third, as rumor had it, and ready to start a new family and forget all about the one she’d left behind. If Papa Was a Rollin’ Stone had been written about a woman, Tasha was sure her mother would have been the inspiration. She just couldn’t help herself.
She supposed that was where she had inherited her attraction to inappropriate men from. It had always been that way. She’d lusted after teachers, mentors, even a priest back when they used to go to church. And now that her mother was gone, Tasha had begun to lust after the next man she thought she couldn’t have: her stepfather.
Part of that came from a place of wanting to help him. He’d had such a hard time moving past her mother’s absence. For the first few months, he’d fallen into a pit of despair that he’d only recently stopped wallowing in. She vividly recalled forcing him to eat and open the curtains to let in a bit of sunlight. She remembered having to practically drag him out of bed in the afternoons and coercing him into taking a shower. That last one was where her attraction had started; the thought had popped into her head one day that maybe if she stripped down and got in there with him, he’d feel more up to it.
It was just a silly, passing idea at first. She’d smirked and tried not to laugh out loud when she’d thought of it. But then, as she sat on the edge of his bed gathering his dirty laundry into the hamper, she’d stared at the partially-open bathroom door and wondered just what it would have been like if she’d actually done it.
What if she snuck in there, right at that moment? How would she find her stepfather? Surely he was naked, bronze body glistening as rivulets of near-scalding water snaked down it. Surely his chocolate brown hair was swept back from his face, his eyes closed as he let the steam surround him. What she really wanted to know, however, was if his dick was hard, and if so, what was he doing to it?
She’d bit her lip as she’d listened to the rushing water on the other side of the door. If she walked in there, would he be stroking himself? Would her stepfather have his legs set apart, his cock in his hand, his balls gently swaying with each stroke as he brought himself to the pinnacle of pleasure all over the tiled walls?
The fantasy had made her so wet that she’d been surprised when there was no wet spot where she’d been sitting on the bed. But after throwing his clothes into the washer, Tasha had slipped off her panties and sat on top of it, legs spread wide as she let the constant humming vibrations work against her clit, sending her into an orgasm that shattered her right there in the laundry room.
Since then, thinking dirty things about her stepfather had been an everyday event. It wasn’t something she could ignore or push aside. No matter how hard she tried to think of anyone or anything else, her thoughts always drifted back to Blake and how sad and lonely he must be.
When he had suggested a father-daughter vacation to take their minds off of her mother’s absence, as well as to celebrate his victory over his depression, all kinds of devious thoughts had run through Tasha’s head. She’d immediately suggested the yacht, ensuring that she and her father would spend all their time alone together in the middle of a vast ocean where no one could bear witness to the dirty things she planned on doing to him.
Except that fantasizing about her stepfather and acting out those fantasies were two different things entirely, and Tasha had yet to work up the courage to wriggle her way into his pants—at least, thus far.
Now she smiled at him, turning to face him in her tiny string bikini. The revealing red fabric was the perfect complement to her own tawny skin, and if she’d had her shades off, it would have made her emerald eyes pop even more than they already did. The extremely low-cut top showcased her D-cup breasts to marvelous effect, and the thin lining ensured that even in the temperate south Pacific weather, her hard nipples were completely visible.
The bottom was no less modest. It was so small that it exposed a bit of her pussy on either side, just enough that shaving was an absolute must, and the back barely contained her ripe ass cheeks. As she lounged against the rail on full display for him, she noticed that he tried very, very hard not to notice any of that and instead kept his eyes pointedly on hers.
“It’s just so beautiful out there,” she said at last, “so peaceful. Nothing but us for miles around.” She flashed him a smile brighter than the sun. “We could be doing anything out here, and no one would be the wiser.”
Blake chuckled softly. It made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. “Lucky we’re just some boring rich folk,” he said. “Easier on the Coast Guard that way.” He nodded down below deck. “You want a beer? I was just gonna grab one and come sit out here with you.”
Tasha beamed. He’d been piloting the yacht all day, just another excuse to keep brooding, she guessed. She’d been waiting for him to poke his head out of his shell for what seemed like forever now. Knowing he was going to spend time with her, and with a beer in his hand, renewed her interest in hooking him during their vacation. She just had to figure out some suitable bait.
Whatever it was had to be innocent, easily misconstrued. If he balked or got angry, she had to have an exit strategy. It had to be innocuous, something she could dismiss, if necessary. She pursed her lips, then smiled as the perfect thing came to mind.
“No, Daddy,” she purred, stretching her arms above her head so that her tits nearly came spilling out of her bikini. “I’m gonna sunbathe for a while, I think. I’d love a bottled water, though.”
“Good thinking,” her stepfather said. “You wouldn’t want to get dehydrated.” Then he disappeared down the stairs below deck. “I’ll be right back up.”
Tasha waited until she heard him reach the bottom of the stairs. Then she quickly crossed the deck to one of the lounge chairs near the starboard side and looked out into the sea, ensuring that they really were alone out there.
When she saw no signs of life, she grinned deviously. Perfect. Now’s my chance.
Tasha was never one to deny herself any pleasure. She was used to getting her
way. So when she set her sights on something she wanted, really committed to it, there was little that anyone could do to dissuade her from finding some way to get it.
Blake was no different. Even though it was a more complicated undertaking than, say, seducing one of the boys back at her college campus, Tasha wasn’t capable of denying herself the satisfaction and thrill of bagging the most unattainable man she could think of. It would be a real challenge, and something about how dirty and disgusting it was really turned her on.
So, before Blake could come back up on deck, she quickly untied the top of her string bikini, tossing it onto the lounge chair next to her. Then she lay down on her stomach, exposing her back to the bright mid-day sun.
She squirmed as her bare nipples brushed against the wooden slats of the chair. She could feel them stiffening already as she thought of what her stepfather would do when he found her there. Even though she hadn’t been in the water today, she felt her bikini bottom moisten, sticking to her shaven lips as she wriggled in anticipation.
Her pulse rushed in her ears. She listened for his footsteps, holding her breath as she heard the door to one of the interior cabins close. Then her stepfather began walking up the stairs, and she barely contained her glee as he rounded the corner to where she was laying.
“I grabbed you some sunscreen,” he said. She peeked at him through her lashes. He was looking at the label, oblivious to the scene she’d constructed for him. “Don’t want you getting burned.”
“Thanks, Daddy,” she cooed, biting her lip and revealing a little bit more of her face to him. “Would you put some on my back? It’s such a pain, and I can’t really reach.”
“Sure,” he said, setting her water bottle on a nearby end table along with his beer. “Let me just…”
Finally, his eyes fell upon her naked back. For the briefest of moments, she saw his baby blues widen in shock, but also in what Tasha could tell was primal, instinctual interest. He hesitated, jaw working, but no words leaving his mouth. She watched, trying to keep her poker face on as he began to pitch an obvious tent in his pants.
“What?” she asked finally, acting like she had no idea what his problem was. “You don’t want me to get tan lines, do you?”
Her stepfather shook his head slowly. He wet his lips, and Tasha envied them, wishing he’d roll his pink tongue over her thrumming clit instead.
“No,” he said at last, “of course not.” He barked a little laugh, one that sounded very much like a nervous giggle, then pulled the other lounge chair closer to where she was laying and cleared his throat as he sat down on it. Even though she could no longer see him, she could tell his gaze was focused squarely on her ass, and she wiggled it a little under the guise of making herself more comfortable.
She heard the cap to the sunscreen open, heard him squirt some onto his hands. When he placed them down onto the curve of her spine, she gasped, arching off the lounge chair.
“Ooh, Daddy!” she said much more sensually than she had to. “That’s so cold!”
“S-sorry, princess,” he stammered, working along her lower back. His fingers were just skirting the edges of her bikini bottom. “It’ll warm up in a minute, I’m sure.”
Tasha settled, turning her head to watch as he ran his big, rough hands over her skin. She liked that about him. He might have been a billionaire CEO, a yuppie if there ever was one, but he wasn’t afraid to work with his hands, either. It kept him down-to-earth, so that even though he could afford boats and trips like this, it was never a weird, awkward experience where he talked about stocks and bonds and hostile takeovers and Tasha listened, eyes glazed.
She appreciated his hands ever more now. She liked the way it felt like she was being manhandled, stroked and studied by a real man and not those college boys that had hounded her ever since she started attending the university. She let herself writhe a little, her ass brushing against his forearm as he began to move steadily upward toward her shoulders, coating her skin in the creamy sunscreen with lightly tremoring fingers.
I wonder what he’s thinking about. She looked up at his face. It was tense and drawn. He looked very much like a man tapping into the reservoir of his self-restraint. She wondered, too, how long it would be before that particular well ran dry.
When he began working the sunscreen into her shoulders, Tasha moaned, reaching up to lift her long blonde hair out of the way. It left one of her breasts almost fully exposed, and she took her time putting her arm back down, letting Blake get a teasing view of her naked tits. It was all she could do not to snicker as he made a soft sound like a barely audible grunt from the lounge chair.
“Don’t forget the backs of my legs,” she told him. “If I get burned there, I won’t be able to sit the rest of the trip.”
Her stepfather let loose a strangled laugh. “Yeah. That’d be terrible.”
He renewed his supply of sunscreen and hesitantly started at her ankles, trying to avoid the swells of her ass for as long as possible. She spread her legs for him when he touched her thighs, hoping he could see the wet patch forming on her bikini bottom, but if he noticed, he certainly didn’t say anything.
When his fingers began working just below her ass, however, she made a show of pushing up against his palms, rubbing against them. He made another grunt, one that was far less subtle this time, and when she looked at his swim trunks, she could see his dick standing at attention beneath them.
She smirked behind her arm. Now that was a sight for sore eyes.
But it wasn’t enough. If Tasha was going to seduce him, she was going to need to go farther than this. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves, then slowly turned over onto her back, and before Blake could object, she pouted up at him, tits to the sky.
“Can you put some on my front?” she asked him. “Don’t worry. I’ll rub it in.”
Blake couldn’t just look at her face this time. He was staring at her tits now, at how heavy and full they were, at her puckered pink nipples and her flat belly. Her legs were still spread, and the fabric of her bikini bottom had slid to the side a little, revealing almost the entirety of one of her pussy lips. He swallowed hard before his gaze returned to her face.
“Tasha…”
“Please?” she begged, cutting him off before he could properly object. “Oh, come on, Daddy. It’s not like you haven’t seen a pair of tits before.” She laughed. “They probably look like Mom’s, huh?”
Blake grimaced. He picked up the bottle of sunscreen and slowly opened the top.
“No,” he said. “Definitely not. They’re nothing at all like your mother’s.”
Tasha grinned, then gasped as Blake squirted a huge amount of sunscreen into the valley between her breasts. She squealed a bit at how cold it was, how much more if it there was than she needed. Blake’s eyes widened and he winced, setting the bottle down on his lounge chair.
“Whoops,” he said. “Sorry. I guess I… got a little excited, there.”
Tasha raised her brows at his choice of words. Before he could stutter and correct himself, she looked down at the goopy mess on her chest and smirked when she realized she could use it to her advantage.
“It’s okay, Daddy,” she told him, dipping her fingers into the creamy white puddle. “I’ll make it work.”
And then she began to rub herself, spreading all the excess lotion onto her breasts, covering even her rosy nipples in the pearlescent fluid her stepfather had squirted all over her chest.
He watched, transfixed by her motions as she covered herself in it. She made sure to make a huge mess, letting it drip off her fingertips and back onto her D-cups with girlish giggles. She tweaked her nipples a bit, circling them carefully, then flicking them until they fully hardened, biting into her lip as she did so. To her left, Blake was shifting, “adjusting” himself with his hand as his dick lurched in his trunks.
“There’s so much of it,” she breathed, her eyes wide. “Oh, Daddy. You’ve made a big, creamy mess all over me!”
Blake shut his eyes and set his jaw in a final attempt to hold back. She could see his cock pulsating steadily, prodding at the fabric prison that kept it hidden from her view. She continued playing with her big tits, pushing them together, rubbing them against one another, and teasing her nipples some more as she gasped and cooed. The next time she looked over at her stepfather, her heart nearly stopped in her chest. His dick was out.
He hadn’t meant to, from the looks of it. His cock had just gotten so hard that the tip was pushing out of his waistband, red and glistening in the sunlight. She could see a little dribble of precum already running down it, and she looked up at him, licking her luscious red lips.
“Better put some sunscreen on that too, don’t you think, Daddy? You sure as hell don’t want that to burn…”
Her stepfather looked down, his cheeks turning crimson when he realized she could see the tip of his long, stiff cock. At first he made like he was going to put it away, stuff it back in his trunks and leave her by herself on the deck, but then he stopped, waistband tugged just slightly open. He looked at Tasha again, or more specifically, at her big tits crushed between her hands.
