Life was a lot different after I took Sophie dancing. As far as she was concerned, her sexual fulfilment was the most important thing happening in the flat. She stopped wearing dressing gowns altogether. So what if her breasts and pussy were able to be seen through her flimsy nighties. Look and play were her watchwords. So if I joined them on the sofa, Sophie would throw her legs over mine or turn around and make out with me.

It seemed like a power play to me, especially as Dad was going on a long trip in a couple of weeks. It was seen as vital that he have big Christmas parties for his workforce. One for his suppliers and the second for his workforce. They both were very boozy affairs. There was no way he could do them back to back. So, in the middle of December, he went away for ten days, including two whole weekends. I was due to go back to Mum as soon as he returned.

I could see that Sophie was looking forward to him going off. The sexual tension between us had risen since I made out with her and fingered her to orgasm. I thought she was looking for more, but my father seemed to think differently. I don't know his exact thoughts because he kept avoiding discussions or conversations about what I should or should not do when he left for that long trip. He didn't leave me any extra suggestions when I dropped him at the airport.

On the first night away, Sophie planned to go out with her lesbian friends Zena and Claire. I had not seen them much since the wedding because Sophie mostly met them at their house. During our sexual encounters, Sophie told me that they lived in her house and had done so for years. Before she met my father, she had a significant bisexual phase. The three shared the house and, most nights, the same bed.

I drove Dad to the airport and then hit the gym at college. My rowing coach was annoyed with me about the time I was training. So, after a long, hard session, I returned to the apartment, expecting Sophie to have already left. I carefully opened the door and heard Zena telling Sophie loudly that she agreed with her frustration. What's the point of having Donkey Boy (that was me) in the house if he is not fucking you.

I carefully listened as Zena criticised Paul (my father) for not keeping to the agreement they had all worked out the day after the wedding. I would finally hear the plan I'd heard so much about but had never worked out what it was. Simply put, Zena explained that Paul would arrange for Donkey Boy to switch colleges and live here so that every night that he was away, Sophie would have a replacement cock to fill her mouth, pussy and ass. Keep her happy.

I had worked this out already, but given my father's attitude, I did not believe he had signed up for it. Zena said he had not just signed up for it but was the idea's originator. Once Zena and Claire had discovered my cock was as big as my father's. Claire waded in at this point, expressing that she agreed with everything. Why was my father being such an asshole and not convincing me to fuck Sophie properly?

I then listened to Sophie trying to defend my father and his refusal to express his opinion or give guidance. It wasn't compelling, and I found myself getting pretty angry. Not least because it seemed my father was not keeping his word. Oh, and there was the CCTV he was secretly watching. I carefully retraced my steps and silently opened the front door. Then I called out and slammed it as if I had just returned.

By the time I got to the kitchen, the conversation had changed. Sophie told the girls I was rowing for the college and getting a buff body. Which meant I had to strip off my top and let the three of them run their hands over my six-pack and ripped shoulders. I accepted a beer and let them tell me where they were going. Sophie had her black dress with the zips at the front. Underwear looked optional at best.

Zena had a playsuit stretched out so tightly across her curves she might not have been wearing anything. She, too, wasn't wearing underclothes; I could see her pussy lips in all their glory. I asked where they were going and was told there was a new female-centric club on the other side of the city. Sophie said to me that I could not come along tonight. She would not be too late; perhaps I should stay up for her.

I could take a hint, and after they left, I had a long hot bath. I needed to calm down because, with the information I had tonight, I was still pretty upset. All those comments in the phone sex call that I was remembering now made sense. Even the conversation with Dad on the phone the night before I took Sophie dancing. All that worry, I was making the right decision, and all along, I should have fucked Sophie the first time Dad went away.

Sophie returned about one in the morning. I used the live view of the CCTV to check the front door and saw her get out of the lift. She looked radient, with an expectant glint in her eye. Both her zips were entirely undone. I waited for her naked on the other side of the door, and when she came in, I told her that I was going to fuck her right there. She had the biggest smile as I took her coat and bag, placed them on the hall table, and took her into my arms.

We made out for a little while, and then I grabbed both of her hips and lifted her against the front door. Using one hand at a time, I shifted from hip to thigh, opening up her legs on either side of my hips and lowering her onto my stiff cock. Sophie moved one hand underneath to line me up, and I let her impale herself to around half my length. I had prepared myself in the bath by having a quick wank. I would last five times as long as the second time.

After a little while and some short little thrusts, I was entirely inside my stepmom. I had thought about this moment for over a year, partly in fantasy and partly that I hoped it would happen. Her pussy gripped me like a soft vice, and as she played with her clit the vice tightened in the first of her many orgasms that night. I thought of other things, intent not to come inside her. Eventually, her breathing regained its control.

I lifted her off and opened the door to Dad's office. Sophie understood straight away and leaned back on his desk as I grabbed her legs and slid back into her. Sophie's knees were on either side of my chest as I slowly drove deep into her. She was at almost the perfect angle to drive into her and then push an extra two inches at the end. Deeper was the one word that passed her lips for the first fifty strokes. As I slightly increased in pace, the deeper changed to faster. Not one to disappoint, I followed her commands until she screamed out into one of her mega orgasms,

Sophie's body shook in convulsions until I slowed down and stopped. She looked me in the eye and asked me for more. So I slipped out of her in a small rush of her juices, and hand in hand, we walked into the kitchen. For months now, at six o'clock, Sophie has sat in a kitchen chair and lifted one knee up to her chest. It never failed to expose her stocking tops and sometimes a glimpse of panty in even a long skirt.

The skirt tonight was short and had two big slits right in the front. I saw her stocking tops, but not her panties because she didn't leave the house with any on. Sliding between her legs and into her dripping snatch was something Colin had talked about endlessly. However, he wasn't the one filling her pussy right now. I took this a little slower because the kitchen chair wasn't quite as solid as Dad's desk.

The slowness was what killed me. It took quite a long time for Sophie to orgasm. I could not outlast her this time, and as she approached her climax, I told her I was close as well. Sophie pushed me away, climbed down from the chair and took my cock head in her mouth. Clamping her lips around, she wanked me off until I could hold it no longer. Sophie swallowed it all. First, she opened her mouth to show it to me, then an empty mouth a few seconds later.

Sophie was getting into the swing of it now. She pulled me into the dining room, sat me down in Dad's chair and lay on the table. Shimmying downwards, she soon had her legs over my shoulders, and I began the first bit of oral sex on my father's wife. Sophie was pleasant to me. Telling me that although I wasn't great, there was room for improvement. We had nine days before Dad returned to get me good at it.

After I got my hard-on back, we moved on to each of the four sofas in the main room. I lasted a lot longer this time and managed to get an orgasm out of Sophie on each of them. I was running out of positions to try by this time, but Sophie explained more of them to me. Finally, we finished up in my bedroom. We stayed there all night, fucking until my cock got sore. I woke the following day to the sight of my lovely stepmom trying to get all of my cock into her mouth.

Sophie explained that I was about to get the best blowjob of my life, so just lay back and enjoy it. Starting by licking my cockhead like an ice cream, Sophie worked her hand mostly around my shaft. She seemed so happy that she could not wrap her fingers around it. Slowly, she worked more and more of it into her throat over the next half an hour. She seemed desperate to get everything inside, but never got more than halfway down.

At that point, she started to bob up and down. I could see the head pushing a lump up and down her throat. With one hand, she cupped my balls and, with the other, slowly started to work her fingers into my ass. The horniest thing was she slipped her fingers into her pussy, gathered her juices, and some of my cum to lube up my ass. The second finger tipped me over the edge. She was right, though—the best blowjob so far.

As I lay there recovering, Sophie explained that she was going to teach me how to be a sex god. Not just for her, although it was my duty to make her come intensely and often. It was also for all the rest of the girls and women I was going to fuck in the next ten years. She hoped I would be as diligent in her classes as in college. I needed to score an A+ in all the relevant skills she envisioned teaching me.