I never did figure out what they saw that day. I can only assume it was everything since I knew they were watching and peeking at the beginning. The thought of the two 18-year-old girls watching me pleasure myself is still, to this day, arousing, even though so much has happened since.
In the days and weeks that followed, I thought, but was never sure, that the laughing and whispering was sometimes in reference to what they saw. I felt that they looked at me a little differently, a little knowingly, but was that just my imagination?
I worried also that they may have told Emily's mom; not that she'd be concerned about me jacking off, in fact I often did that for her. It is one of our 'games', but she'd have been less than impressed that I was not more careful about when and where, and that not only her daughter, but her daughter's best friend would have seen.
The one thing I was sure of though was that the teasing continued, and I have little doubt that at least some of it was deliberate. Emily would, as she had for so long, wear those loose t-shirts, or the tight ones, and be quite unabashed as she went about her business around the house. It seemed almost a daily event that I'd see her doing something that I saw as teasing like her 'bouncing' down the stairs in that happy, gleeful way a teenage girl moves where, with every skip of every step her breasts would jiggle and bounce in that tantalizing way.
I was convinced that this was a teasing game; our conversation was normal, about the everyday things, but there was this parallel communication, this deliberate tease; she was showing off, she was deliberately moving that way. She sexily grabbed a boob or pushed her chest out and all the time knew I was looking at her, knew that this was turning me on, knew that she was teasing me.
She knew I was looking and she knew that I knew she was teasing, yet it continued with the innocent overtones of normal interaction.
There were many times where this teasing seemed so calculated. One, again on the stairs, was where she took advantage of the view I had while she was coming up the stairs. This happened several times but on this day she called, "Rob, will you be able to take me to school tomorrow?" as she started up the stairs.
"Of course," I replied.
Our conversation continued, about the goings on at school. As we chatted she walked up the stairs one slow step at a time. I leaned on the rail and watched as we talked. Each step, and every unnecessary movement on the way, was designed to give me a view of what she knew I liked looking at. The bending over to touch her feet, the stretching out of her arms in that 'I'm so tired' way or the arching of her back all was, I'm sure, made to give me a view of her tits, a full view down that shirt to those delicious handfuls and hard little nipples, or the sight of them pressed hard into that tight shirt.
There was one day, a weekend morning, that Emily and her friend Amy were helping out with some cleaning. They were both mopping the floor and as always, dressed in those shirts. Each with a mop, one of those Swiffer things, they cleaned the floor and did so enthusiastically, mopping quickly and working hard to get the stubborn dirt off.
You can likely imagine the joy this brought me: two girls with their tits dangling and moving around in rhythm to their efforts, trying so hard to escape from the loose off-the-shoulder tee shirts. Much to my amusement, Emily's boob fell out three times, and each time she'd shuffle the shoulder back up only for it to quickly work itself off again. I so wanted to touch them, to feel that soft warm skin and the hard little nipple, and gently squeeze and hold that gorgeous breast.
Amy, on the other hand seemed to be having less trouble, perhaps because her tits were smaller and less prone to develop momentum from the work, but just because they weren't falling out didn't mean they were less enticing. I could see clearly how sexy hers were.
Unlike Emily who had large breasts with a definite weight to them, Amy's were tighter to her body, firmer I'd imagine, and very 'teenage', very pert. I watched her move and was enthralled at the view of those long athletic legs, that lovely skin tone and those sneak views of her tits. I tried to imagine her doing it naked, mopping the floor, and what her butt would look like and her pussy; would she shave it at her age or would it have the lovely wispy soft hair?
The very next week my wife was away on business and I was at home with the kids. Emily's brother was gone most of the time, off very early to school and consumed with activities; 'the teenage lodger' we called him. This left me with the possibility of creating a scene, perhaps pushing my earlier attempts to the next level, and I did.
The kids bathroom was, as I've mentioned before, down the hall from the master bedroom and if the doors were open there was a full view to the closets and the bathroom door in the master bedroom. This was the crux of my plan which was helped by the fact that each morning Emily had the same routine.
As she got ready for school she would be back and forth from her room to her bathroom, dressed in a bra and jeans, or sometimes even just bra and panties, while she brushed her hair, or her teeth, or did her make-up. She did all of this without closing her bathroom door. Sometimes I'd see her intently looking in the mirror and other times she'd be looking straight into my room.
So, on this morning I decided to push the teasing a different way and give her a full view of me. I heard the signs that she was doing her bathroom things, so I got out of bed naked with a hard cock. I have quite a large cock, about 8 or 8 1/2 inches, nicely thick with a gentle curve and a well proportioned head. When, as it was this morning, it's that 'rock-solid' hard, it bounces in front of me and, even though I say so myself, looks quite magnificent.
I went to the closet and acted as though I was looking for something. I caught a glimpse of Emily doing her bathroom things through my wide open door, but she looked like she was looking in her mirror and so would, at best, only see me in the corner of her eye.
I continued searching through my closet knowing that any second she'd see me. Without the ability to watch her watch me I had to be satisfied with just the slightest of glimpses, but she did see. I caught the movement of her away from the mirror and motions that signaled her change of her position, then what seemed to be her freezing, standing still. I sneaked a peek and yes, she was standing there staring at me with an expression that was not shock, not horror, not amusement, perhaps intrigue.
I couldn't really tell and couldn't really look, but what I could do was stay there, keep looking for that illusive shirt and casually stroke my hard cock. And I did. I did for what seemed like an eternity but was probably only fifteen seconds, but fifteen seconds of staring at your step-dad's naked body and hard cock, fifteen seconds of jerking your cock in front of your step daughter, fifteen seconds of pretending to not know she was there, that was a long time.
Wow, you know that shot of adrenaline feeling, the intensity and shaking? That was me when I stepped into the bathroom.
That evening Emily and I went out to dinner. With just the two of us, and no Mom and brother, we decided that we didn't want to cook and a quick trip to our local Carrabagarden Italian would be nice.
The conversation was normal, the usual fun things we talk about; school, friends, clothes, the teenage girl things but unusually. Emily talked a lot about boys, about her friends and about the things her friends were doing with boys. She mentioned that some of the girls were sleeping with their boyfriends, talked of the other sexual things that were going on and shared a little of her viewpoint.
I sensed the need to listen rather than offer advice and was unclear what, if anything, I should say. After all, our 'escapades' indicated that she was not so naive, although perhaps she was, and this conversation supported the idea that she wasn't confident with boys. Unlike her friends, she'd never had a boyfriend. This, I suspected, brought a sense of conflict; those growing sexual inclinations and no boyfriend. I decided to take the approach that she was responsible but obviously intrigued and naturally developing a sexual life, and provide some guidance that way. Albeit with a twist.
"Emily," I said, "It's only natural that, at your age, you're intrigued by sex and look at boys that way and that you will be imagining what it's like to have sex"
"Yeah, right," she said, "And we do talk about it all the time, me and Amy and the others."
"That's okay," I replied. "It's normal and I expect that you all wonder what it's like to have sex and do the things that people do, right. And," I went on to say, "I bet you talk about boys' penises, and wonder what they look like and feel like and what it would be like to touch one that's aroused."
"We do, some girls have, Amy has, she's already done a blowjob too," she said.
Wow, I thought. "Well, okay," I said, rather shocked at Emily's candor, "And I expect that's something that you think about too," came my rather fumbled reply. "I expect that you and the other girls also wonder what it would be like to have a penis in your mouth, like Amy, and whether it's okay and even what boys like about a blow job."
"We do, Rob," she said, "In fact the girls joke about it and about well, you know, a boy finishing in your mouth."
At this time, my heart was racing. What a conversation to be having, especially with her, with all that undertone that had been happening for so long. I was so aroused, my cock was hard as nails and I really wanted to take it out and show her what a man's hard cock was like.
The conversation continued with the revelation that she masturbated. She made me promise not to tell her Mom.
"I really wonder what it would feel like to have a penis in me, to really have sex. Will it feel like it does... when I, you know, when I play with myself?" Emily asked.
Well, I stumbled thorough that answer too and then the conversation drifted back to more usual topics as dinner wrapped up.
We got the check and drove the short way home in silence, a very odd silence. My mind was racing all over the place and I could only imagine what she was thinking about.
Back home, we chatted a little and turned the TV on. One of her shows, nothing that interested me, and besides, I couldn't get my mind off this arousal and sexual tension I'd built up so I announced:
"I'm going to take a shower and read a little," I said. Which actually meant to me that I was going to shower, jack off feverishly and relieve that pressure and tension in my loins.
I went upstairs to my room and undressed ready to shower. I did not close the bedroom door and only half closed the bathroom door in the hope that Emily might be inclined to peek as she had done with Amy. It would be great if she did; we'd reached a point with the conversation at dinner but I didn't think she'd make any connections back to that spying-on-step-dad thing.
I enjoyed the long hot shower and paid special attention to shaving my balls, making my cock hard and just teasing myself to the edge. I find that freshly clean shaven balls and a nice manscape only serve to heighten arousal and produce one of those extended hard-ons which, once it's set-in, remains rock hard for a while. I don't use the pills, but imagine that the feeling may be the same as you get with that.
I dried off in the shower and then stepped out to see, via the mirror, that she was there. Not peeking as before but in my room near the door, more confident perhaps, but only just visible. I wasn't sure whether she was there to spy or for another reason; she could simply have been getting some of my wife's clothes or even just stopping to say goodnight.
I didn't care, I'd crossed the line already and so had she, several times before, so I just did what I wanted to to: play with my cock and watch myself in the mirror and give her a show. I sensed that she was watching as I continued to play, as I rubbed lotion into my clean shaven balls and squeezed my cock almost to the point of cumming.
Confirmation that she was watching came quickly as I saw her move closer - presumably to get a better look, and obviously gaining confidence and a degree of comfort. She had to know it was possible, even likely, that I'd see her yet she didn't seem to care and this just aroused me more. I knew I was giving a show and I wanted to make it a good one - then, as I began wondering how and where to come, she casually walked in.
She walked in while I was naked, hard, jerking, masturbating, showing off and so, so close to shooting my load. I looked straight into her eyes and saw an expression of intrigue, of apprehensive confidence if that's not a contradiction, of submission maybe too. I saw her take in the whole scene and finally rest her gaze on my cock and my jerking. Part of me wanted to let go right then and shoot cum all over the floor, but I didn't, I eased back and slowed my hand, finally stopping. I just stood there.
"Do all boys play with their cocks like that?" she asked.
"I guess so," I said, "There are many ways to do it, but they're all about the same."
She stepped gingerly toward me without removing her gaze from my cock, until she was standing about an arm's length away.
"Dad?" she said. She called me Dad occasionally although more commonly used my name. "Dad, what we talked about at dinner... you know, touching...touching a penis...can I touch yours?" she said.
I cleared my throat, pausing, not for effect, but for composure and said, "If you like, you can."
She stepped closer and gently, so gently, reached out her hand and held my cock. She wrapped her fingers slowly around my shaft and just held it. I suspect that the heat and the hardness and the flinching of excitement were all so new to her that she needed a second or two to relax. She then began to very slowly move her hand up and down my cock gripping with just enough pressure to move the skin of my uncut cock in that sensual way that with each upward stroke. Her movement just slightly pulled my balls up, and each downward stroke let them down again.
Emily began to get comfortable and slowly explored and experimented with different strokes, different pressures. She changed hands and tried with two hands. She cupped my balls with one hand while she squeezed my cock with the other.
Then, she took a finger and slowly rubbed over the head of my cock, rubbing the pre-cum all over my pulsating purple head and the looked up at me
"Dad, I want to feel what it's like to do a blowjob."
I just smiled. She opened her mouth and then, quite abruptly, wrapped her lips around my cock, taking in the head and then pausing. I sensed that, in addition to absorbing the situation and sensation, she was figuring out what to do next. I was so used the developed craft of cock sucking from my well practiced wife, whose expertise had been honed from her teenage endeavors through her 'suck anything that's offered' college phase to the repertoire of skills she had today.
What she did next was slowly jerk my cock while holding her mouth steady around the head, then gradually she shifted the movement from her hand to her mouth, then to her head as she slowly started bobbing up and down on my cock.
The sensation was amazing and was probably intensified by the state I was in, by the taboo nature of it all and the knowledge that this was the very first cock she'd sucked.
I could so easily have blown my load right there but thought better of it. I imagined how off-putting a surprise semen shot would be; it wasn't as though she'd ever seen a cock explode before, and I didn't want to shock her like that.
I'd been in a similar position too, in my few and far between gay experiences. I remembered the first time I sucked a cock and was fearful of him shooting in my mouth, and then later in life when I wanted it to happen, I recalled the trepidation as I anticipated that hot shot of come on the back of my throat. When it actually happened it was great, but I'd been where Emily was and I wanted to take it easy.
"Emily," I said, "You're going to make me cum very soon, you're doing such a great job."
"Mmmm," was the reply.
"Do you want me to cum in your mouth?" I asked.
She stopped. She paused, and looked at me. "Is that what is supposed to happen?" she said. "Do you cum in Mom's mouth?"
"Sometimes, but not always," I replied. "It all depends whether she wants me to or whether she wants to watch me cum"
"I want to watch you cum," Emily said as she wrapped her mouth around my cock again and started sucking and bobbing. She slowed down her sucking; it seemed as though she naturally knew what to do, and placed her hand around my cock gradually increasing the speed of her strokes and the pressure of her grip, all the while holding the head of my cock in her mouth.
Then it happened, the point of no return, and she knew it too. She moved her mouth away and continued to jerk my cock with an ever tightening grip, and then I exploded. Between the first jet of cum and the second she gripped me hard, forcing the pressure up until, with just the slightest release from her I shot two more streams of cum all over her shirt.
She kept holding, as the climax slowed she held my cock and looked intently at the cum dribbling from the end.
"Suck it again," I said, "taste my cum, so you know what to expect next time."
She did, and she held my cock in her mouth as it slowly deflated. After perhaps a minute she stood up, her tee shirt covered in my cum.
"Let's take this off and get it in the laundry," I said as I gently lifted her shirt over her head. For the very first time, I took in the splendor of her magnificent breasts, right there in front of me, right there in a situation where I could feel them, right there where I had so longed them to be.
I placed my hands on her waist and slowly and gently moved them up her torso to the side of each breast, then carefully slid them under each breast caressing them, feeling their weight and softness. I bent down and opened my mouth around her nipple and, with a little lick and a suck, felt the splendor and arousal and smelled her sexiness.
"Mom's home tomorrow," she said. "I know that we won't tell her about this but we need to get my shirt washed so she doesn't find it...she'd be so mad if she saw that and she'd think I was being a slut at school."
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<a href="http://www.lushstories.com/stories/incest/caught-by-my-stepdaughter-part-2.aspx">Caught by my Step-Daughter (part 2)</a>