It was a good thing I’d moved up to managing the dealership. I couldn’t have dealt with the public that day.
I had my suspicions for a while, but I’d finally put in the time and effort to find out for certain that my wife was cheating on me. I’d filed for divorce on Friday, and moved my personal belongings into an apartment over the weekend. I was not in a cheery mood that Monday morning.
Six years down the drain – counting the two years of dating before we got married.
Fortunately, circumstances had only forced me to put on a fake smile twice the whole day, and we’d sold a few vehicles. My reps were in the process of closing up shop to go home when someone unexpected walked in the front door. I did a double-take when I saw her through the smoked glass of my office window.
Technically, Laura was my stepdaughter, though I’d never really served in that capacity. She had never called me Dad, or anything of that nature. My soon-to-be-ex made it clear while we were still dating that she wasn’t interested in anyone else sharing disciplinary duties. I had tried – gently – to convince her that she was going to drive her daughter away with her hard-ass discipline, but that only resulted in arguments.
Laura proved me right when she moved in with a friend on her eighteenth birthday. She had barely interacted with her mother in the year since.
As was usual ever since she moved out, Laura was dressed – or rather barely dressed – in a tube top and a short skirt. Her dark blonde hair always seemed to be longer every time I saw her. It nearly reached the small of her back. Despite the lack of any genuine relationship between us, I clenched my teeth when I saw one of my reps staring at her. She must have asked if I was in because the desk assistant pointed her toward my office.
I got up, opened the door of my office, and stepped into the doorway. “Everything all right, Laura?”
“I’m good,” she answered. “Are you okay? I heard.”
Even though I’d let my staff know about the divorce, I hadn’t elaborated. “Give me a few minutes to close up shop, okay?”
“Sure.” She pointed to the chair in my office and asked, “Mind if I sit?”
“Go ahead. The Wi-Fi password is on that card there, if you want to use your phone.”
She smiled while reaching for one of the cards and said, “Thanks.”
I walked up the desk and told my assistant, “I’ll lock up tonight.” She usually locked up, because her data-entry sometimes took longer than closing down the dealership, and she was the owner’s niece. “My stepdaughter just found out about the divorce.”
“Say no more,” she said and handed over the keys. “I’m actually done for once, so it will be nice to leave early.”
I thanked her and dealt with a few minor things. When I glanced toward my office, I could faintly see Laura with her head bent down to look at her phone. In about ten minutes, everyone was cleared out, so I turned out the lights and locked the doors.
When I walked into the office, Laura put down her phone and said, “I can’t believe Mom was cheating on you.” She paused for a moment, shrugged, and then said, “Actually, I can totally believe it, but you know what I mean.”
“It is what it is,” I said, and then sighed as I sat down heavily in my chair.
“I know she’s going to be a total bitch about it. She’s going to try to take everything,” Laura said.
“Honestly, I have everything I care about out of the house. I’m not even going to fight her for it. She can have it. My lawyer will take care of keeping her from siphoning off my whole 401k and everything else.”
“She’s still a bitch.”
I chuckled and said, “That she is. I suppose I can say that now.”
“So, are you okay?”
I answered, “Things weren’t great for a while, and I had my suspicions about her cheating, so it’s not as if it all dropped on me at once. It’s no walk in the park, but I was prepared for it, to some degree.”
“I wondered,” Laura said. “I could tell from the way you both were acting that she wasn’t putting out even before I moved.”
As much as having my stepdaughter casually mention me having sex with her mother took me aback, I knew that reacting to it wasn’t going to make it any less awkward. I also had practice.
While she had barely spoken to her mother since moving out, I was a different story. When she needed something, she had started coming to me. Her manner when asking for something had steadily leaned toward flirtatious as time went on, and the way she dressed only punctuated it.
So, I’d learned to roll with the punches and pretend I was oblivious to what she was doing. I suspected she was using it as a tactic to get what she needed without argument, and if that was true, it worked. It was easier to lend her a few dollars than to risk her delving into even more scandalous behavior with me. She had even paid most of those loans back.
I said, “Anyway, I’m fine, Laura. No need to worry about me. Life goes on.”
“Well, if you’re sure,” she said, her tone indicating that she was leaving an opening.
“I’m sure.”
A pregnant pause followed, and I could tell by the look on her face that something else was on her mind.
“Do you need something?” I asked to break the silence.
“Am I that obvious?” she asked with a crooked smile.
I shook my head, chuckled, and reached for my wallet. “You’ve been good about repaying loans, so I don’t see any reason to change that, despite the circumstances. How much do you need?”
“Well...” she began. She stood up, smoothed out what little skirt there was, and stepped around to my side of the desk. “I don’t need money. There’s something I bet you need too, and I thought we could help each other out.”
Oh shit, I thought. The look in her eyes was sensual – dangerous. I asked, “What are you talking about?”
She smiled and leaned on my desk. She was posing, showing off her lithe body, and making no attempt to hide it. “I can’t see you cheating, so if Mom wasn’t giving it up all this time, then you have to be feeling neglected.”
She took another step toward me, letting her fingertips glide along my desk, and never breaking eye contact. I held up a hand, prayed my voice wouldn’t fail me, and said, “Laura, you need to stop.”
“I don’t think you want me to,” she teased and reached out to caress my arm.
I flinched away and said, “Laura, whatever you’re thinking, it’s out of the question. I was married to your mother. I’ve known you since you were thirteen.”
She shook her head and said, “I’m not thirteen anymore.” With that, she reached up and yanked down her pale pink tube top, baring her braless breasts.
Even though I was in panic mode, it was impossible not to look. Her firm little handfuls had a point to them, and her nipples were puffy, just like her mother’s. As little as I want to admit it, I had a flash of thought that her mother’s breasts had never looked that good.
I tore my eyes away, looked at the wall, and kept my hand interposed between us. I should have known better. She squatted down and pressed her right breast against my palm. I could feel her stiff nipple poking me.
I yanked my hand away and kicked with my feet to roll my chair back, but that only put a foot of space between us before the chair collided with the filing cabinet. Laura bunched up her tiny skirt, which was the same hue as her top, and revealed that her thong panties matched the rest of her outfit.
I was trapped in the corner. I started to raise my hand again but realized she was only going to push her smooth young flesh against it if I did. Short of climbing over the desk, there was no escape. Before I could recover from the shock, she turned sideways and sat down on my legs.
“Laura...” I muttered, trying not to look at all the bared skin.
“Relax,” she said. “You filed for divorce, so you’re free of Mom. I’m nineteen. I’m perfectly legal. I’m here, and I want you. You can’t tell me you don’t want me, too.”
Her hand slid straight to my crotch as soon as she finished, and I stiffened. To my chagrin, my muscles weren’t the only things stiffening. I had a young, sexy woman sitting on my lap, squeezing my cock, and it was reacting naturally.
She moaned. “Even if you do try to lie to me, this doesn’t lie.”
My voice strained, I said, “Laura, you have to stop.”
“No,” she protested. Then she moaned again and squeezed my hardening cock even more ardently. “It just keeps getting bigger. I’m getting so wet. Want to see?”
I didn’t look, though it took more effort than I’d care to admit. Her words and the movement of her other arm in my peripheral vision told me what she was doing. I knew she’d pulled her panties aside. She lifted her hand in front of me, and I could see two of her fingers glistening.
“See?” she said and moved her fingers toward my lips.
The perfume of her arousal hit me like a freight train, but I pursed my lips tight, refusing to part them. She wiped her juices on them instead. My mouth was watering, and my fully engorged cock was throbbing.
She suddenly stood, and I thought for a brief moment that she was going to give up. Of course, I was wrong. She pushed up the arms of my office chair to get them out of the way, straddled me, sat down with her pussy pressed against the bulge in my pants, and wormed her hands behind my neck. Her body undulated, grinding her sex against me, and thrusting her breasts into my face.
“Please. Please fuck me. I’m so hot, I can’t stand it,” she begged in a desperate, sensual tone. Then she crushed her tits against my chest and kissed me.
Knowing that she was tasting her own pussy on my lips was what broke me. She had me backed into a corner – quite literally. Deep down, beneath the layers of societal norms, instinct forged by thousands of years of evolution was driving me. That beast ripped free of its cage and took over. A brief, excited moan from her accompanied my lips parting, allowing her questing tongue inside. Mine slipped out to meet hers.
I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her hard. There was no going back at that point. Any man who has worked a job where he had an office and claims he never had a fantasy about having sex there is a liar. I was no exception, and since she’d neatly roped me in, I was going to indulge it.
I pulled away from her lips far enough to look her in the eye and said, “Up on the desk.”
She let out a purring moan and planted her feet on the floor. I raked clear a space for her, and a moment later, she was hopping up onto my desk. Laura spread her legs wide, inviting me into her little pink pussy.
“You’re just doing this to get back at your mother, aren’t you?” I asked as I rolled my chair back to my desk.
“You can’t tell me that doesn’t sound fun. But, no. I am so sick and tired of guys my age who have no clue how to make me come.”
“How do you know I do?” I asked while letting the fingers of my left hand glide up her inner thigh, toward her bare-shaven treasure.
She shivered and moaned. “Because Mom has always ditched any guy who wasn’t good in bed – like instantly. She married you, so...”
I pulled her panties around the curve of her ass and slid my fingers over her folds. Her pussy looked like her mother’s as well – at least superficially. Her labia were firmer, and far pinker, though. When I slipped a finger inside her – causing her to whimper – it confirmed what I already suspected. She was far tighter than her mother, and she wasn’t exaggerating about how wet she was.
Her voice was deep with need when she said, “Ohh... Eat my pussy.”
