Our shared house became even more lively after Miriam was born, a bustling sanctuary filled with laughter and whispers of secrets that only grew stronger with each passing year.
I had always felt a profound sense of responsibility towards Miriam, despite the revelation that she was actually Benjamin's, which became clear after checking Miriam's and my blood groups. Yet, as she grew, the resemblance between her and Jenny grew stronger, and so did my attraction to her. Her emerging womanhood cast a seductive shadow over their once innocent interactions, a shadow that grew longer with each of her sultry smiles and playful glances.
Just now it was summer and at the age of sixteen she had grown into a stunning beauty, with her mother's piercing eyes and a figure that had started to blossom with a grace that could make any man's head turn. Her skin was kissed by the sun, a warm golden hue that complemented the fiery red hair she had inherited, making it impossible for me to ignore the burgeoning desires that were slowly consuming me.
Miriam plopped on the couch next to me, wearing a tight top that clung to her growing curves and a pair of hot pants that barely contained the long legs that she threw over his lap without a second thought. The fabric of her shorts stretched tautly against her skin, revealing the tantalizing outline of her feminine form, which had become increasingly distracting to me. Her feet were bare, the painted toes wiggling innocently as she settled into her new position, her youthful exuberance oblivious to the turmoil she was unknowingly stirring within me.
"Do you think I'm pretty?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with the same mischief that had once danced in Jenny's when she would coyly flirt with me. Her question hung in the air, thick with the scent of coconut sunscreen that clung to her freshly baked skin. I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat a testament to the internal battle raging within me.
"You know I do, Miriam," I replied, my voice strained. Her question was as innocent as the giggle that followed, but it was laden with a newfound allure that sent a jolt of electricity through my veins.
She leaned in closer, her breath warm against my neck as she whispered, "But do you think I'm as pretty as Mom?"
Memories of the first times Jenny had teased me, years ago, flooded my mind. It was a playful dance, a silent flirtation that had left me with a similar bulge in my pants, which I had managed to hide, but Miriam's question brought it all rushing back. The way she leaned into me now, her warm breath tickling my ear, was eerily reminiscent of Jenny's early flirtations.
I took a deep breath, trying to compose myself as she wiggled her feet, toes playing with the hem of my shorts. "You're growing up so fast," I murmured, my hand involuntarily moving to her ankle, giving it a gentle squeeze. She giggled, and my heart skipped a beat as the contact sent a thrill through me. Her skin was smooth and warm, and I felt the pulse of her youth beneath my fingertips.
"I was just wondering," she began, her voice a sweet siren's call that sent shivers down my spine. "I saw you sniffing Mom's panties last week when you thought no one was looking. Do I smell different because I'm still a virgin?" Her question hit me like a ton of bricks, my eyes widening in shock and arousal as she leaned in even closer, her breath hot on my neck. Her other foot had found its way to my growing erection, toying with it in a way that was far from innocent.
Miriam's eyes twinkled with curiosity as she continued, her foot pressing down gently on my hardness. "And would I taste different, too?" Her toes curled around me, her action anything but innocuous as she waited for my response. My brain felt like it was short-circuiting, trying to process her words and the sensation of her foot on my most intimate part. The room around us seemed to warp, the air thick with the scent of her arousal and the sweetness of the forbidden fruit she offered.
"Miriam," I croaked, my hand tightening around her ankle in an attempt to pull her foot away. But she was insistent, her grip on me unyielding. "What are you doing?"
Her grin grew wider, a knowing look in her eyes. "Just teasing, Daddy," she whispered, the pet name she had called me for so long now sounding entirely different in this new context. "You know you cannot touch me because Mom and Margaret warned you about the consequences, but I think they would not really consider castrating you, would they?"
The way she looked at me, the way she spoke, was a mirror image of how Jenny had always known exactly how to push my buttons, to make me want her, to make me crave her. But there was something else there, something that made me question everything. It was as if Miriam had studied her mother's every move, every word, every sultry look, and now she was using them on me, testing the waters of our relationship, seeing just how deep she could wade before the tide turned against her.
"Miriam," I began again, my voice a little firmer this time. "You shouldn't talk like that." But even as I said it, my body betrayed me, my erection growing stronger beneath her foot. The way she was looking at me, the way she was moving her toes against me, was making it impossible to think straight.
"But have you ever fantasized about it?" she asked, her voice a mix of curiosity and challenge. "When you licked Mommy, have you ever imagined it was me instead?" Her question hung in the air, thick with the tension that had built between us. I could feel the heat from her leg against mine, the warmth of her skin seeping through the fabric of my shorts.
I stared at her, trying to read her expression, to find the line between innocence and seduction. "Miriam," I warned again, but my voice was weaker, the resolve in it slipping away like sand through my fingers. She grinned at me, her eyes gleaming with the satisfaction of knowing she had me wound up like a coil. "You can still kiss my pretty feet instead, Daddy," she said, raising her foot to my face. The arch of her foot was so close, her toes painted a glossy red that matched her lips.
My gaze lingered on her foot for a moment, the reality of what she was asking sinking in. The room seemed to shrink around us, the air charged with a mix of fear and excitement. Then she added, "Margaret said to come to her once I'm finished with you. There is something she wants to... discuss." She winked, the gesture so much like her mother's that it was impossible to ignore the implication. Was this some twisted game they were playing? Or was Miriam truly crossing the line on her own?
With trembling hands, I leaned over and placed a small, almost chaste kiss on the arch of her foot, the taste of salt and sunscreen on my lips. I felt a shiver run through her, and she giggled, a sound that was both childlike and yet held the promise of a woman's pleasure.
Miriam watched me intently as I pulled myself to my feet, my erection tenting my shorts, impossible to ignore. She licked her lips, and I could see the curiosity in her eyes. She had never seen me like this before, never knew the power she held over me. The room felt hot, suffocating, as I tried to gather my thoughts and my dignity.
My legs felt like lead as I climbed the stairs, the throb of my arousal beating in time with my racing heart. I found Margaret and Jenny in our master bedroom, the door ajar, a beacon of soft light spilling into the hallway. They were naked, tangled together in the sheets, their bodies moving in a slow, sensual dance that seemed to have been choreographed just for me.
Jenny's hand was buried in Margaret's hair, her other hand caressing her breast, while Margaret's head was buried between Jenny's thighs, her tongue tracing patterns on her sex that I knew brought her to the edge of pleasure. They were so engrossed in their own passion that they didn't notice me at first, but as I stepped into the room, their eyes flickered up to meet mine, twin grins of mischief and desire lighting up their faces.
"She's sweet, isn't she?" Jenny grinned at me, her voice husky with arousal. "I promised her ice cream if she got you all wound up nicely for us."
Margaret looked up from her position between Jenny's legs, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "And did she do a good job?"
Jenny's grin grew wider as she looked at me, her hand still playing with the soft mound of Margaret's breast. "Oh, she did. Didn't she, George?"
Margaret sat up, her hair a wild mess around her face, the sweat glistening on her skin. "Well, don't just stand there," she purred, her voice low and inviting. "Let it out on me, fuck me into oblivion, but only after you lick Jenny to a nice orgasm first."
