When Dad went away for the first time, he went through a lot of detail with me. Since it was his business, the apartment was fully integrated as a smart home. We had CCTV. Only the cameras in the entrance lobby and the front door were active. Then there was the heating, the lighting, the curtains, the music system, and the TVs. Many channels were available, and he set me up a profile for my use.

It was pretty clever. I could tap into Netflix, NOW, and others and it would record as it played. So I could save it for my bit of the massive server in his office. I had space for over a hundred movies. He also showed me the hollowed-out book, which had five hundred in various denominations. There was also a Credit Card in his initials. Since we had the same initial, I could use it, and the pin was my "ddmm" of birth.

He insisted that Sophie wasn't to be left alone outside of work. I should stay in every night from six pm. If she wanted to go out, I should go with her. To the movies, or coffee, or whatever. It seemed a bit much, but Dad explained that Sophie got lonely when he wasn't there. I needed to keep her company if she got bored or went out. Stop her before she does something stupid. I wasn't sure why he was worried.

The money and the card were to assist with this. It wasn't free money. He would want details and receipts. He seemed a bit over the top, but he explained that Sophie hated him going away and my being here was supposed to help. With that in mind, if she wanted to do anything, try to work out what Dad would do if he was here and do that. I asked for an example. Dad said if Sophie was feeling sad, cuddle her. I could do that.

Dad went away for one night that first week. Nothing was much different. Sophie and I had a great time doing what we would have done if Dad had been here. We did a joint workout, ate food afterwards, and watched TV. The only difference was Dad phoning us up. The group chat was on the sofa, not at the dining table. Then Sophie disappeared to her bedroom for a private chat and some phone sex. I heard all of the conversation. She was so loud.

The following two weeks were pretty much the same. Dad then stayed away for two nights the next week, and although the first night was fine, Sophie seemed a little anxious the second night. Dad rang earlier as he was going out for dinner with the client. We had only just finished our workout. Again, Sophie went for her private phone sex conversation in her bedroom, but not for very long.

She said she would shower whilst I cooked some pasta, and there was time for me to have a shower whilst it cooked. It seemed a lazy night, so I returned in a T-shirt and baggy shorts. I needed room for the inevitable erection if we were going to watch the TV. Sophie had on her boy pyjamas, which were quite tight, and her nipples were visible. Especially as with these PJs, she never wore a dressing gown.

We eat on stools at the breakfast counter. Sophie had a big glass of wine, and I had a beer. It was all informal, but Sophie asked me some pointed questions about Rachel, who I had sex with that summer. They had swapped notes and pictures of me in my wetsuit. My erection was very prominent in the picture because there was no place to hide it. Usually, the cold sea takes care of that, but Rachel and her two friends were in bikinis then.

Since it was still early on Thursday evening, we chose a film. Sophie chose a coming-of-age movie instead of the historical thing Dad usually went for. It probably had more sex in it. As the evening got a bit colder, Sophie grabbed the throw on the back of the sofa and wrapped it around herself. As she did so, she snuggled closer, more of a cuddle than a hug. I was okay with it.

There were a few boring bits, mostly the boasting talk between the guys, where Sophie started to talk. She admitted to me that she had sent Rachel to meet me with the sole intention of having sex. I was a bit shocked, but Sophie explained that a lot could be learned from a person's behaviour when they were intimate. I could have been an asshole, but as it turned out, I was a considerate lover. This means I was probably a good housemate.

When the sex scenes were on the TV, I felt Sophie lean a bit more into me, and slowly, she dropped herself from her head on my shoulder to her head on my chest. I held her in one arm, but she wanted to snuggle down. As the film started to get into the extended sex scenes, Sophie, as usual, started to make some comments. She went into a bit of a rant. I had heard her talk about this before.

Sophie went on about how these coming-of-age movies almost always focused on the male heroes. How they managed to see naked women, how they persuaded those girls to give them blow jobs. How the fucking was only ever from the male perspective. The female characters rarely got an orgasm or had the guy go down on her. It was all about the boy and how he got sex.

She then moved on to the effect of this, which I agreed with. As a result, young men didn't see the need for oral sex to prepare the woman for what was coming. They were objectified in real life as well as on the screen. They felt unable until later developed to ask for their fair share. As a result, a lot of women took their revenge during their later twenties and during marriage to deny sex and have affairs on their terms.

It was at that point it got a little out of hand. Sophie used me as an example in my recent dalliance with Rachel. I was, by all accounts, pretty rubbish at oral sex, and maybe that was why I struggled in everyday relationships. If perhaps I was a little more adept at oral sex and warmed the woman up a bit more, I might get a more receptive partner and indeed, my big cock would fit a little more easily.

I remember that, at that point, Dad had mentioned Sophie didn't hold her drink very well, and she had polished off most of the bottle of wine we had opened. I was unsure how to respond; the last thing I wanted to do was offend. However, I was a bit put out. The girl I thought I had carefully chatted up and talked into bed was a set-up from the start. Now, my oral technique was under attack.

Sophie realised that perhaps she had gone too far, so she switched to another extreme. She mentioned that Rachel was more than happy with my big dick, and the oral technique was something she could help with. She reached out with her left hand and grabbed my erect cock, and squeezed it. She suggested that she demonstrate what to do when Dad wasn't here, and I could practise on her.

I almost jumped out of my skin. If it had been any other woman on earth (well, perhaps not Mum or Grandma), I would have moved in for a snog at this point. This was my stepmom and the wife of my father. Nothing like this was ever going to happen. Sophie let go of my cock, and we moved apart. Fortunately, about five minutes later, the film finished, and we both got ready for bed.

I told Sophie I would clear up. She seemed a bit drunk. So I returned the sofa to normal, washed the dirty glasses, and cleaned my teeth. As I came out of the bathroom and went into the big room to turn off the lights, I heard the unmistakable sounds of Sophie masturbating. She did this a lot, potentially more than I did if that were possible. She also was talking out loud as if to my father.

The door was slightly ajar, no more than a few inches, so I stood around to listen. It was terrible of me, but I figured that looking and listening was not the same thing as letting her grab my cock. She told Paul that she had been a naughty girl. Paul was my father's name. She explained that she had grabbed hold of my cock, but she was confused that it was Paul's son, not Paul, on the sofa.

She went on to apologise that it wasn't part of the plan, but she was just so horny. It was all Paul's fault for going away and leaving her here at home in her horny state with a boy with a big cock. She just so wanted to touch it. I realised that I had pulled down my shorts and was wanking myself off, just listening. I shook my head and retreated to my bedroom, where as usual, I wanked myself to sleep.

At dinner the following night, my father had returned. Sophie repeated the same conversation that she had had with my father in bed. It was not quite as explicit, but it was an apology to both of us. Dad quickly jumped in and explained to Sophie that, of course, it was alright. He asked me to confirm that I had not been offended. It was just that Sophie got confused with a few glasses of wine.

I was beginning to understand why Dad was so insistent that I was always with Sophie when he was away. I figured that she got horny and probably would do something stupid after a few glasses of wine. It was better that I was there and perhaps slightly embarrassed than another guy who took advantage. Sophie mentioned problems last year, and I wonder if that was true.

Fortunately, Dad was only away one night the following week. Single nights seemed to be okay, Sophie wasn't too horny, and nothing happened beyond our regular fun evenings. However, the last week in October was the week afterwards. Dad had already mentioned that he would meet with his development team in Eastern Europe. This was an away trip for the whole week, from Sunday afternoon to Saturday morning.