Privately, I call her ‘Little Miss Sulky’. Tara, my wife’s daughter from her first marriage is a mass of seething teenage hormones and temper tantrums wrapped up in a nicely curved-in-all-the-right-places, curly-blonde-headed package. She is an fairly ordinary, nice looking kid…no that’s not right, emerging young woman…or rather, she would be without the constant sulkily pouting lips and sullen frown. She really is very pretty when she smiles, which is all too seldom.
Tara fiercely resents her mother for finally leaving and then divorcing her husband to escape the regular drunken Saturday night beatings and marital rapes. Tara still thinks the sun shines out of the bastard’s backside! Her face lights up whenever it is time for she and her brother, Jim Jnr, to go on one of their court-ordered visits. It seems as if that is the only time she is ever happy.
But even more fiercely, Tara resents that one day her mother met me – in a clash of trundlers at a supermarket checkout! And she is really pissed that Shelley and I instantly liked each other, became friends, then lovers, and then decided to marry, thus cutting Jim out of the picture altogether. Besotted with her father, Tara has made life hell for the rest of us ever since. Even Jim Jnr doesn’t escape her wrath. Her battles with Shelley are frequent and immense, and usually end up in tears with Tara slamming her way to her bedroom in high dudgeon. And the hot stares of pure hatred the girl throws in my direction on a daily basis need to be seen to be believed! I do my best to talk to her, but my attempts at gentle humour are received with disdain and “one of those looks”.
I became a househusband. A few months after our wedding, I got caught out in an accident on a construction site when some contractors were tearing down an old building before the company I worked for as a civil engineer could start the new project. Under normal circumstances I would have been out of harm’s way, but a collapsing wall demolished the lightly fabricated site office where I was working. Two of my assistants died and I ended up in intensive care. Laid out immobile on my back, I speculated that no doubt Tara was pretty disappointed that I survived. Luckily, our income didn’t suffer too greatly. Shelley was able to go back to working at the bank, where she had been an account manager until Tara was born, and she was quickly re-assimilated into that role. And as I got better, I resumed some of my engineering work, but by remote as a consultant instead of full time.
Therefore, I am generally here when everyone gets home. Jim Jnr spends lots of time with his buddies after school and only arrives to wash up before dinner. Shelley shows up between 6.30 and 7pm, although she sometimes surprises us all by getting home early. So most often, Tara is the first one to show her face and, of course, she heads to her room without even acknowledging my presence.
But the day before yesterday is different…
Instead of going to her room, Tara comes into the kitchen, where I am starting to prepare the evening meal. She doesn’t speak, just stands at the other end of the room leaning against the bench with her back to me, drinking the glass of water she has just drawn from the tap. I notice that her shoulders are slumped. In fact, her whole body language says that she is thoroughly dejected.
“What’s up, kiddo?” I ask, speaking quietly and not looking at her. “Bad day at ‘the office’?”
I am startled by a muffled sob. I shoot a quick glance in Tara’s direction and see that her shoulders are shaking.
I stop what I am doing and dry my hands. “Hey Tara, what’s up? Any way I can help?”
“No…there’s nothing you can do!”
The usual helpless feeling a male gets when he is faced with a female in tears overcomes me. I move close to her and put my hand on her shoulder, “C’mon…even though we don’t get along the best, I’m still here for you…” There is a sudden thought in the back of my mind that maybe Tara has got herself pregnant. “You’re not ‘in trouble’ are you…?”
She turns to look at me. Tears streak her cheeks and her eyeliner has run. “In trouble…? Oh…no…you mean…? No, nothing like that!” She smiles ruefully and murmurs again, “No, nothing like that…” more to herself than to me.
Tara mops her face with the backs of her hands, spreading her makeup around even more. She looks like a rather sad Panda. “It’s just girl stuff…”
“Aaaaah…” Another instant male reaction – the time of the month!
“No, it’s not that either. It’s just that on the way home two of my best friends…or at least I thought they were my best friends…came out and told me I am a fat slob. And then they said that I’d never get to go out with any really good-looking guys until I lose a lot of weight. They were so mean…!”
Tara stands no chance of some day walking the catwalks as a model, the stocky, build she inherited from her father is against her, but if she is sensible with her diet and gets plenty of exercise, neither will she get fat.
“Oh come on!” I exclaim. “I don’t know where they got the ‘you’re fat’ bit from…you look just fine to me…perfectly normal in fact. And you certainly aren’t a slob…you look after your hair and clothes and things beautifully…no bullshit! I suppose they’re a couple of skinny flat-chested…!”
“They are so slim and pretty! And they have nice tits. All the guys chase after them…”
I shook my head, “Jesus, some people! I tell you, if I were a young guy looking for a girlfriend, I’d pick a curvy, good-looking girl like you before one of those anorexic bitches who walk like they’ve got a broomstick permanently up their butt…!”
To my surprise, Tara turns to me, puts her arms around my middle and presses up to my front. I instinctively put my arms around her.
“Do you really mean that…?” Her voice is muffled against my chest.
“Bet your cute ass I do…!” It was meant as a joke, but my stepdaughter really does have quite a cute ass; the kind of springy handfuls a guy likes grab hold of while he’s sliding his cock in and out of a chick’s hot little snatch.
“Thank you, Dave…”
I know I should break away, but Tara feels so good in my arms. Her generous breasts bore into my chest. I can feel her warm belly against mine. I do not mean it to happen, but my body reacts. I begin to get hard. I think to myself, “Shit, Dave! She’s your wife’s daughter! She’s twenty years younger than you are for Chrissakes!” and then “Oh God, I hope she can’t feel my dick!”
Yet, I still clasp her to me.
We hold each other for what seems like aeons, although it is only a few seconds. My pulse thumps like a bass drum in my ears. I can feel my blood singing through my veins. Then I realise that, yes, Tara can feel my erection. She is pushing her pelvis closer to my hardness, and is rubbing her belly against it.
We both know we are tumbling into the danger zone and should stop this now! Yet we still clasp each other tightly.
Her thick golden mane of hair is loose today. Tara sometimes wears it tied up in a ponytail, showing off her neck. She has a lovely neck; it is one of her best features. I sometimes find myself wondering how it would feel to stroke the skin of that fragile seeming column. Ok, I have always had a “thing” about the back of a woman’s neck. Without prior thought, I slide a hand up her back, under the heavy strands of hair and inside the collar of her school shirt. She is just as I imagined, soft and smooth, yet strong as well. I stroke her skin with the pads of my fingertips and Tara presses ever tighter to me.
Suddenly, her grasp on my waist slackens. I find myself breathing a deep internal sigh of disappointment that the moment is over. But no! Tara is not moving away from me! Instead, still using me for support, she is sinking slowly to her knees! By stroking the back of her neck I was not telling to her to do this. I wasn’t pushing her down, or anything like that! But she must think I was! I should stop her and make it right, but I don’t. With my heart pounding, I let my stepdaughter to go on down. Her cheek slides down my chest and down my belly until she comes to kneel on the tiled floor before me with her forehead resting on my belt buckle.
My cock feels like an iron bar in my pants. All reason leaves me. My whole being cries out to me to get that hard flesh out and push it between Little Miss Sulky’s pouting lips! I tell myself that she must do this all the time with her boyfriends. She wants it! She loves it!
The sound of my zipper sliding down is like ripping metal. Tara must know what I intend to do. I tell myself that if she pulls away now, I will not force her! But a little voice inside me says “Come on Dave, you’re not so sure about that!’
Tara tilts her head back, but not away from me; she is still holding on to me by my hips. Her eyes are closed, or perhaps she is looking down; her eyelashes are very long on her cheeks. She is making room for me to put my hand inside my pants to get my cock out – she wants it!
Tara does not flinch when my member finally appears in the open, so she must have her eyes closed. It looks huge, gnarled and angry this close to the smooth soft skin of her face. I present the bulging mushroom cap to her mouth. Dark purple-pink presses purposefully on sulky delicate pink cushions. My cock feels heavy in my fingers; my balls swell with seed in their sac. Her lips are so soft! Delicate gives way to hot purposeful power. I press against her teeth. Tara opens her jaws wide. I wonder if she can take me in, I look and feel so massive!
I slide the head of my cock into her wet warmth. She just lets it happen. Very quickly, I realise that I am wrong – Tara has never done this with anybody before. I should pull back, but it is too late for that now. Just the same, I don’t want to frighten her, so I fuck her face gently, just moving in and out by a few millimetres. I can feel my glans sliding forwards and backwards over her lips, her bottom teeth and her tongue.
I stroke her hair affectionately and I feel her move her tongue on me. Tara is learning fast. She moves her head forward, taking me deeper into her mouth. Her tongue is working vigorously on me now, roiling over the head of my cock and exploring the ridged underside. The tingling warning of an impending climax grows in the area behind my balls. She must taste my pre-cum. Tara is breathing heavily through her nose. I look down at her in wonderment at the way her lips circle my cock and how wide it stretches her mouth. Even though they are contained within a bra, her nipples stick out hard through the cotton of her school shirt, She has pulled her skirt up her thighs and is rubbing between her legs through her panties. Her panties are pale blue with tiny red flowers printed on them.
The sight of Tara touching her pussy swiftly brings on my orgasm. I warn her so that she can take her mouth away, “Tara, I’m going to cum…”
She carries on licking at my cock head and fucking me with her mouth. She is holding my cock in her fingers now and sucking on me very gently.
I am desperate! “Tara! I’m going to cum!”
It is too late. She can feel my cock jerking and pulsing in her fingers anyway! Fierce jolts of pleasure wrack my body. I hear Tara gulping and gasping for air as she frantically tries to swallow the floods of sperm I am spurting into her. She tongues the sensitive underside of my cock and sharp, renewed spasms blast through me. I try to take my cock away, but she follows me with her mouth, determined to keep me there until the very end.
I let her lick and suck me, extracting every drop of semen from my body. I tremble with pleasure at each and every caress from her tongue. My cock softens and shrinks, eventually falling out from between her lips – a small, wrinkled tube of flesh, a caricature of the potent rod it was a few minutes before. It is wet with her saliva. A small dribble of after-cum drips from its tip onto her bare leg. Her lips look dark, swollen, bruised. She is holding her pussy under her skirt, but is no longer rubbing herself. She does not look at my cock; her eyes are still closed.
I am just about to drop to my knees, to take her in my arms, to hold her, to tell her that I didn’t mean that to happen, and how sorry I am, when we hear the sound of Shelley’s car in the driveway. She is home very early. Thank God she didn’t arrive five minutes sooner! Tara scrambles to her feet and heads for her room. “Tell her I’m doing my homework,” she calls out as she runs out of the kitchen.
The change in Tara’s demeanour amazes everybody else at the dinner table. She is as nice as pie to me and equally considerate to her mother. Even Jim Jnr takes time out from shovelling food past his ever-hungry jaws to exchange a few jokes with her. After the meal I notice Tara and her mother talking earnestly in the kitchen, which culminates in Shelley taking a long, speculative look in my direction. “Oh shit! Tara has told her all about this afternoon!” repeats endlessly in my mind. But when my wife joins me afterwards to watch TV she says nothing. Eventually, almost bursting at the seams with curiosity, and no small amount of trepidation, I have to ask, “What was all that about between you and Tara?”
“Oh, I was telling her how nice it was to have her back to normal at last…and she was telling me how great you are and that you helped her out with her biology project… I didn’t know you are such an expert…”
Almost choking with relief, I manage to get out something like; “You’d be astonished at the things us engineers have to know about!”
Later, in bed, Shelley is feeling very friendly, in spite of it being a workday in the morning. When I ease my willing cock into her familiar, wet warm channel, after preparing her with my tongue, I can’t help wondering how it would feel do this with Tara. But all thoughts of my stepdaughter leave my mind as my wife rolls us over, so that she is on top, and proceeds to fuck the living daylights out of me! Her screams and my shouts of ecstasy when we orgasm together echo in the night. And then we sleep in a sweaty, naked, happily sex-smeared tangle until the alarm wakes us in the morning.
Little Miss Sulky is back to her old self at breakfast time. For no apparent reason, a flaming row erupts between the girl and her mother. Then I overhear Tara’s shouted accusation: “You were carrying on like animals!” which almost results in Shelley slapping her daughter’s face. When I try to pour oil on the troubled waters, Tara yells at me to “Mind your own fucking business!” which sets the argument off all over again. I am thankful for the peace and quiet when everybody has left.
I am sitting in my favourite armchair in the lounge reviewing a project report I’ve just finished when Tara arrives home from school. She goes straight to her room. I don’t blame her. After what happened yesterday afternoon she has every right to avoid me. But then she surprises me by coming into the lounge. She stands in front of me with her hands clasped behind her back, still wearing her school uniform shirt and skirt, but she has taken off her shoes and socks, and is barefoot. Her breasts protrude under her shirt most invitingly. As I look at them, her nipples harden. I cannot prevent my cock hardening in unison, but I pray that she cannot see my growing excitement.
I start to talk about what I made her do, and to make the apology I didn’t get to voice, but she is not interested. She drops to her knees and pushes my knees apart. She crawls between them and rests her elbows on the tops of my thighs. She has undone the two top buttons of her shirt so that I can see into her cleavage. Her breasts look soft, warm and inviting. Tara cradles her chin in her hands and looks me in the face. She says, “Don’t worry about yesterday, Dave…I enjoyed it…I want us to do it again…”
I start to protest, to say “No!” but she silences me by reaching out and starting to undo my zipper. “I know you are interested,” she murmurs, “I can see you are already growing an erection…”
I can’t take my eyes off her sulky lips while she speaks. My mind is full of how good it felt yesterday when I pushed my cock in between them and into her mouth.
“Get it out” she tells me, “I want to see it…”
Once again, I try to tell her “No!” and once again she cuts me off, this time by telling me, “If you don’t, I’ll tell Mum all about what you did to me yesterday…”
It is difficult to get my cock out while I am sitting down. It is so stiff it gets tangled up in my underpants, making her giggle with amusement. Tara laughs so seldom it is heart warming to hear her now, even under these circumstances. Eventually, I get my cock free. It stands up like a defiant flagpole pointing directly at her face.
She closely examines every millimetre of my hard flesh, gently pushing it forward and back, and from side to side, so that she doesn’t miss a single detail. She traces the purple-roped veins with a fingernail and I tingle inside with pleasure. A drop of pre-cum emerges. With her fingertip, Tara spreads it around the silky skin of my cock-head, making it gleam, then carries her finger to her mouth to get my taste. She looks me right in the eye when she licks her fingertip.
“What are you thinking, Tara?” I ask myself.
With a secretive smile, Tara lowers her face to my cock. Her tongue flickers over my cock-head and then down my shaft. Soft little kisses trace the path followed by her fingernail a few moments before. The pressure builds within me. She returns to my glans. A wiping flick of her tongue makes my cock jump in her fingers. My mushroom head bumps against her nose. “All right then…” she murmurs softly, shaking my shaft gently from side to side. “Don’t be so impatient!”
Tara eases me between her lips. With fingers and tongue and gentle sucks, she takes me teasingly to my climax. When she feels the first tremors shake my cock, she opens her mouth wide and rests just its tip on her tongue so that I can see my sperm shoot from me and into her mouth. She swallows it down and then sucks me dry. And when I am done, she tucks my shrivelled softness back into my pants.
“Was that nice?” she asks me ingenuously.
“I-it w-was amazing…” I stammer. “I was wondering…”
“How I got so good in such a short time? Don’t worry, I haven’t been practising on anybody else, I got some of the girls at school to tell me how they do it…”
Still somewhat stunned, I decide I must reward her…I should go down on her and give her equal pleasure. I convince myself that it is just for her, but in reality it is all for me. I want to possess her. I want to look at her between the legs to see if her pussy lips pout as sulkily as her other lips do, and I want to smell and taste her youth.
I get out of the armchair and help her take my place. I don’t have to tell Tara what I am going to do, she guesses already. It is a big chair; Tara looks lost in it. She half lies; half sits on the seat with her body twisted so that her head rests on one arm. Her eyes are closed.
She lets me arrange her, as acquiescent as a rag doll. She lets me push the front of her skirt up her thighs to her waist without a murmur of protest. I look at her legs; their skin is richly plump, soft and smooth. Her panties are a pale primrose triangle today. The small hillock of her mound excites me. I am impatient to feel its chubby pad and supple hairs pressing on my nose while I explore her vaginal slit with my tongue. She lets me part her thighs. I peer between them, closely examining the cloth that hides her pussy. It is stained, damp – Tara is, or has been, very sexually aroused.
Starting at the inside of one soft knee, I move with swift licking kisses up her inner thigh until I reach yellow. I briefly kiss the cloth covering her mons and breathe in her female odour. Then I kiss my way down the other thigh to her other knee. I straighten up to look at her again. Her eyes are still closed. All the while I was kissing her, Tara did not react to the touch of my lips. But the rapid rise and fall of her chest and the slight bouncing of her belly skin caused by thump of her heavily beating heart tell me she is far from indifferent to what I am doing to her.
I slide my palms up the outsides of her thighs and hips. Her skin is so warm! I take hold of her panties’ waistband and start to pull them down. She does not resist. In fact, she lifts her bottom from the chair so that I can take them from her more easily. As I run the panties down her legs, she puts her knees together and covers her sex with her hand. Is this instinctive modesty? Or is Tara teasing me?
I grip her wrist and lift her hand to one side. Once more she is a rag doll. The springy, sandy-gold hairs on her venus mount are so fine they hide nothing. I put my hands on the insides of her knees and push her legs apart. Tara allows me to peruse her girlhood without protest. Her pussy is very pretty – a rounded, invitingly deep cleft with flushed, swollen-with-arousal lips and a small hood protecting her pleasure button. Lower down is the suggestion of her sexual entrance and below that the more generous curves and deeper cleft of her buttocks.
I open her legs wider and swoop, covering her juicy lower lips with my mouth. I swipe my tongue along the entire length of her slit from her anus to her mons. She reacts to me for the first time with a gasp and a quiver in her belly. I slide my hands under her and lift her ass from the seat. I plunge my tongue into her sex hole and she rewards me with a long moan of pleasure. I fuck her with my tongue as best I can, but it is not really long enough, or fat enough to be an effective cock. Not for the first time in my life, I wish I had a tongue like a lizard’s, so that I could unfurl it and thrust it deep into the female body to catch her real inner woman flavour and make her squirm with delight!
I find her clit, massaging it with flying licks and sucking bites from my lips. Her sweet tasting sex juices fill my mouth. There is no pretence of calm detachment from her now. Her whole body heaves and trembles in response to my oral caresses. She sucks in air in ragged huffing pants. I slide a finger into her sex and finger-fuck her while I lick her pussy. She tugs at the fatty part of her mons, pulling her hood back to expose her clit more fully to my ministrations. Then, with a rising, keening wail Tara starts to cum. I cling to her bucking body, tormenting her jangling clit with feverish licks until eventually she can take no more of it, pushing my head away with a desperate cry of “Please stop…!”
I watch Tara’s orgasm run its course with interest. The furrow of her brows over closed screwed-up eyelids moves me, as does the way she bares her teeth and clenches her jaws as if she is in ecstatic pain. She covers her vulva with one open palm – she would dearly love to bring her legs tight together, but I am in the way – while she pounds her other hand, clenched in a fist, against the chair arm. Her belly muscles visibly grab and release when each spasm leaps through her.
Slowly she calms down. Her body relaxes. Her eyes are still closed, but she is no longer frowning. The fist that was pounding the chair is now uncurled at her mouth. Tara is not exactly sucking her thumb, but is holding its tip and nail between her teeth and is moving her tongue gently over it.
She allows me to take her hand away from her pussy. It looks hot and inflamed from my fierce oral treatment. And she is very, very, very wet.
I have done the unthinkable, now, renewed, out of control lust leads me to do the unforgivable. Kissing Tara’s pussy has made my cock hard again inside my pants. Deliberately, I undo my belt and the fastener at the waist. She must hear the clink of metal and the rustle of my movements. She must know what I intend to do to her next. Yet still she makes no move to stop me.
I push my chinos and underpants down to my knees. My cock springs out in front of me – a thick, menacing rod of meat. It looks and feels full, dull, heavy, and my balls feel swollen with semen between my legs. I push the livid head of my shaft against her vulva, parting her cleft. Tara does not tense up, flinch or make a sound. She is either resigned to suffering my advances, or she wants me to continue. Whatever, I am so consumed by my need to have her, I do not care.
The head of my cock slides slowly into her wetness. God, she is tight! Her recent orgasm would have made her so, but, for the first time, I consider that Tara might still be a virgin, that this is her first real sexual experience. But it is too late now. I am going to take her, to sink my shaft deep into her body and deposit my sperm far inside!
I encounter firm resistance. Tara truly is intact. I withdraw slightly and push forward again. I am not rough with her, but I am determined that she will give way. A small frown of discomfort crosses her brow. Her eyes remain closed. I pull back. This time I grasp her legs behind her knees, lifting her feet from the floor and pulling her knees up towards her chest. I push in for the third time and feel something give way. Tara lets out a squeal of pain and tears start from the corners of her eyes. She is no longer whole; I have broken her hymen, taken her cherry.
Now I can fuck her properly, but I am gentle at the same time in the knowledge that she is still suffering pain. I move my cock in her slowly, opening her up by degrees. For the first time, She starts to respond to me, flexing her belly and lifting her pelvis to welcome my gradual but insistent invasion. I lower her feet back to the floor and support myself on the chair arms while I watch my shaft inch further into her lush body with every thrust. Soon my dark mat of pubic hair mingles with her golden fuzz. We are fully joined. Her eyes are still closed. Tara is sucking her thumb. My overheated mind wonders if she is pretending she has a second man’s cock in her mouth.
I hold still for a few moments, savouring the sensation of her inner fire and the tight wet silkiness of her sheath. Then Tara begins urging me to resume, clenching her inner muscles and clamping her vaginal walls rhythmically around my shaft.
I withdraw until my tip is barely inside her. Her inner thighs, my cock and both our mats of pubic hair are smeared with her virgin blood. I slide smoothly, swiftly back into her and she greets me with a loud grunt of pleasure. Again I withdraw and plunge back in again, again, and again, and again. I vary my rhythm, now deep lunging thrusts, now short, sharp jabs. And Tara matches me, voicing her enjoyment with abandon. I change the angle of my thrusts from side to side and in a circular motion. And all the time Tara follows me. Her abdomen twists and heaves and writhes beneath me with her efforts to maintain the sliding passage of my member over her clitoris.
Suddenly, she takes control, arching her back and straining her pelvis downward over my shaft with tiny movements of her own at a blinding speed. I hold still and allow her free rein to her gratification. This must be how Tara brings herself to orgasm on her fingers when she masturbates at night in bed! Her tension breaks. Letting out deep, half-strangled groans, she thrashes hard at me, once, twice three times, her mons crashing against me. And then I feel the chaotic flutter followed by the powerful, steady grip and release of her pelvic muscles as her orgasm pounds through her frame.
I am not finished with her yet. Beside, I have not yet cum. When her climax is almost finished, I start to move once more. Tara frowns and mumbles a protest, but quietens again when she feels the renewed awakening that tells her she will orgasm again, and quickly. I am teaching her that she has the capacity to climax time after time, almost to infinity.
This orgasm is just as intense as its predecessor was, as is the third, and then the fourth, and the fifth. She wraps her calves behind my back pulling me closer to her. Her gasps and moans of animal need and pleasure drive me on and on. I want to take her to one more orgasm, but my body finally demands its own release. The jolts of my ejaculations knock the breath out of me; they have seldom been so strong before! Tara’s eyes briefly flash open with surprise when she feels my warm flood burst out deep in her belly. Then we both hold rigidly still, trembling and panting while my pulsing sperm paints her insides. I lean forward and try to kiss her, but she turns her head away muttering, “Don’t be silly…”
My tee shirt is stuck to my body. Tara’s school shirt and her bra are almost transparent with sweat and I can clearly discern the dark shadow of her nipples through the layers of cloth. The blonde curls on her head are dark with moisture and cling tightly to her scalp. We hold still, just looking at each other, while my cock, defeated at last, shrinks slowly in her sheath. When she feels that it is about to finally slip out of her, Tara speaks. “Quick! Give me my pants…!”
I find them on the floor beside I and hand them to her. The instant my cock slides out of her channel, Tara clamps the primrose scrap of material to her groin to catch the pent up fluids we both know will flood from her. We both look down at her crotch at the same instant. Her pussy lips are red and angry-looking from the friction of my shaft. The back of her uniform skirt, which was trapped beneath her bottom throughout our encounter, is soaked with her virgin blood and the sex lubricants that ran copiously from her while we fucked. “That will have to go into the wash! In fact, all my clothes will.” she says ruefully. I’ll tell Mum I had ‘an accident’ at school…she knows my periods are all over the place at the moment…”
I shake my head in wonder at her instant matter-of-fact practicality and move aside to let her get out of the chair to go and change. When she has scrambled from the room with her screwed-up panties clasped between her legs, I go and clean myself up as well. While I am washing the residues of sex from my genitals, I examine my feelings. Do I feel guilty? No, not yet. Right now, I am The Man…The Stud who took Tara’s cherry and taught her how to fuck! But maybe I might feel remorse later on when Shelley gets home. Will I have sex with Tara again? Definitely yes, if we are alone together and she wants it…she is amazing for one so young and inexperienced! Do I love her? No, not in the same way as I love her mother, but I do love fucking her!
Tara is very subdued at dinner. After the meal she helps Shelley to load the dishwasher. While they are working, I hear daughter apologising to mother for the bad behaviour that morning. They hug each other – all is forgiven. Tara heads off to her room almost immediately afterwards without looking at me.
Shelley has to leave early the following morning to attend a breakfast seminar with a group of workers from the bank. Jim Jnr clatters off to meet his buddies before going to school, leaving Tara and I alone in the house. I am sat at the breakfast table, scanning the newspaper headlines as usual, when she comes to stand opposite me. Her school uniform skirt and shirt are crisp and freshly ironed. My cock hardens at the memory of how sweaty and crumpled they were just a few hours before, and what they were stained with.
“Are you ok?” I ask.
“Yes,” she answers quietly, “a little bit sore, but it’s kind of nice…knowing the reason why…”
We regard each other silently for a few moments, and then she leans against the corner of the table so that it pushes her skirt between her thighs. I can’t tear my eyes away from the suggestive triangle the table corner makes out of the cloth, or my mind away from the clear message she is sending me. She throws me “one of those looks” and I finally realise they have nothing whatever to do with hatred.
Her words hang in the silence…“My first two classes today are study periods…I don’t have to be at school until after lunch time…you could drop me off…”
We make our way hand-in-hand to my bedroom. Knowing that we have lots of time and will not be disturbed, we undress each other slowly, teasing each other with little licking kisses and caresses and telling each other how beautiful we are. Naked at last, she invites me into her body. Tara may not get to school at all today!