My New Step-Dad(12)

She looks down at her cum-covered body and then back to me, but doesn’t say anything.

“Get some sleep. And don’t tempt me like that again. I’m your step-dad, and you need to act like it.”

I close her door behind me and go back to my room. I see the panties she gave me earlier still on the bed, and my dick hardens again.

“Fuck.”





Chapter 6





Sophie



I wake the next morning utterly exhausted. It took me forever to get back to sleep after Bruce stormed into my room last night. The fear and excitement of his standing naked over me made it impossible to relax. I replayed what happened over and over in my head. The angry look on his face while he stroked himself and stared at my * is burned into my brain. I can still smell his cum on me, even now. I refused to wipe it off after he left my room. I just lay there, letting it spread out across my skin, hypnotized by the sight of it. I ran my fingers through it, feeling its warmth. I couldn’t stop myself from trying it. I wasn’t sure what I expected it to taste like. A lot of the girls at school complained about swallowing, but when my finger touched my lips and the salty taste hit my taste buds, I had no idea what they were talking about. I wanted more, but next time I wanted Bruce to give it to me from the source.

I thought an orgasm would help my pounding heart but it only made it worse. I rubbed more of his cum on my fingers and used it as lube to wet my clit. The orgasm came fast, but excitement still pounded through my veins. It wasn’t until the first rays of morning light started to shine through the window that I finally passed out.

I look over, see the pillow next to me, and I can’t help but smile. What other things could I do to make him snap like that? And how far could I push him until I got him to touch me? Maybe next time he’ll make me take his cock in my mouth. I won’t know what I’m doing, but I’m sure he’ll guide me. Last night was like a little victory.

Hearing something outside my door, I jump from my bed, slide on my bunny-shaped house slippers, and run to the door. I stop myself before I open it, because I don’t want to seem too excited. “Play it cool, Sophie,” I tell myself before opening the door and peeking out. I hear noises in the kitchen and it makes me giddy. I debate taking my top off, but I don’t think I have the courage for that yet.

Creeping down the hall, I see Bruce. His back is to me and I see that he’s dressed only in pajama bottoms that hang low on his waist. It’s quite clear the man works out. I can see all the muscles flex in his back as he reaches for a coffee cup in the upper cabinet. I don’t think I’ve seen a shirtless man outside of a computer screen or TV.

Before I realize what I’m doing I’m standing right behind him. I can tell from his tense muscles that he knows I’m here. I swear I feel him lean back a little. He told me last night that I shouldn’t mess with a man, that I should try finding a boy, but I don’t want a boy. Or anyone else. I just want him. He makes me feel things I’ve never felt before.

I want more of the things he makes me feel, but right this second I’ll settle for a taste. I lick my lips in anticipation, and rise up on my tip toes, leaning in to kiss him between his shoulder blades. When my lips touch his skin, I let my tongue slip out, getting a small taste of him.

“Stop.”

He says the word, but there’s no fight in it, nor does he try to pull away from me.

I lick a slow trail down the center of his back, wishing it was his chest. Then maybe I could have a taste of his cock, like I dreamed about last night. That’s the taste I really want. I remember his strokes last night were firm and long, and I wonder what he would feel like in my hand.

I can feel my nipples harden at the idea, my sex growing wetter. I want this.

Reaching around, I go to make a grab for him, but he quickly turns, lifts me by my waist, and places me on the kitchen counter like I weigh nothing.

“I told you to stop, Sophie,” he says, removing his hands and leaning into me. He has me caged by his body, yet not a single part of him is touching me. I can feel all of him around me as he surrounds me with his heat. His hands are braced on the counter on either side of me, and he’s only a breath away from making contact.

“What if I don’t want to stop?” I whisper, scared that if I make the slightest move or say the wrong thing he might back away. He might have me caged, but it won’t stop me from poking the beast. He leans in closer, and I swear he’s going to kiss me. I close my eyes in anticipation for what will be my first kiss, but when I feel his breath on my neck, I open them again.

I hear him inhale, like he’s breathing me in. Or maybe he’s smelling me.

“I didn’t wash you off,” I say, reminding him of what he did last night. “That’s you that you’re smelling on me.”

“Fuck!” he growls, pushing away from me. “Why are you doing this? I tell you to stop and you won’t. You won’t even put clothes on.” His words sound pained and make me pause. Maybe I’ve read this all wrong. Last night he seemed like he wanted this, even though he was fighting it. Oh God, here I am again, chasing after someone to be loved and they are clearly pushing me away. Just like everyone else in my life. When would someone chase me? Maybe you aren’t worth fighting to have.

“I’m sorry.” The words slip past my lips, filled with embarrassment. I can feel my face heat with shame. I know nothing about men beyond what I read in books—romance novels filled with happy-ever-afters and men who would fight for their women. Bruce was fighting to keep me away. Take a clue, Sophie.