Loading...First off, it’s not as bad as it sounds, really. I’m her step-father, and not her real dad. But in the end it’s just an excuse. I mean, I raised her through her teen years and saw her off to college, so I guess, unless she really thought her deadbeat dad was a father to her, I was it.
OK, yes, I had desires that I tried with all my might to suppress. She was just beautiful and sexy. I saw it right after she got her braces off when she was fourteen. That smile. That killer smile. That and her round tush and playful, sexy walk, and even her voice. I’m working myself up now, I know, but I just have to tell you how it was.
Actually, I was jealous and very protective of her. I’d give any boy that walked through that front door the third-degree. No one dared lay a hand on her because they knew they would have to answer to me.
Me? Well, I’m 45 and in damn good shape. Seriously. I’m a bike-rider and swim a mile a day. Yes, I’m a fitness junkie. It’s what I do. Yes, it is. I own the local athletic club, well, my wife, Jenny and I do. I met her there, as a matter of fact. I was just starting out after the divorce. She was from the old rolls, and I was trying to learn the membership after I took over. I had no problem remembering her, that’s for sure.
I knew she had a kid. She sometimes came in with her in the afternoon with her book bag. She’d sit in the lounge doing homework while mom did her thing. I’d offer her snacks, and I’d laugh when she’d turn her nose up at the fruit and juice. I knew she wanted junk but not on my watch.
It was a couple of years before I finally got bold enough to ask her out. The mother, not the kid. Less than a year later we were married, and Pris became my daughter, too.
So that almost brings us up to date.
Pris graduated high school with honors and had been accepted at the state school, which coincidentally was one of the top-five party schools in the nation. I know; I’m an alum. Yes, I was perturbed. Here was my innocent (I kept telling myself) child going off into debauchery at the hands of god-knows-who. Well, I would soon find out who it was.
I remember unloading the truck and trying to help organize her dorm room. She would have none of it. In fact, she asked me to leave in no uncertain terms.
Well, there’s a reason for that. I later learned that her roommate had developed something of an immediate crush on me and kept telling Pris that she thought I was “super hot” as I was hauling up furniture.
Pris just went off the deep end and shut her down immediately. Then she just basically told me to leave. Her mother stayed behind, but I went cool my heels walking around the quadrangle on campus. Jenny told me later a little about what happened but didn’t say much more.
Parent’s Day, about a month-and-a-half later was the next time we saw her. She didn’t want us to meet her at dorm but in the cafeteria. It was obvious she was keeping me away from her roommate, Sarah. It didn’t work, though, because Sarah and a few friends intercepted us before we got to the cafeteria. We had a grand time chatting together, but the conversation took a turn that made me constantly look at my wife for signs of discomfort. Sarah was regaling us with her “extracurricular” activities and status with the male population on campus. And then she said something about always having an open date for somebody special and added a wink in my direction. That was my cue to excuse ourselves and head to the cafeteria.
Pris almost blew a gasket when Jenny told her that we met Sarah and some friends outside. I wanted to laugh but knew better than to make light of Pris’ concerns. That episode cast a pall over the next few hours of the visit. We went out to eat, said goodnight and went to our hotel room.
Jenny remarked about Pris’ reaction to our encounter with Sarah. She said she seemed very jealous. I didn’t even treat it remotely serious. I cast it off as a young girl trying her flirting skills at an older guy.
The next day was full of activities for the students and their parents so we never came in contact with Sarah or her friends again, much to my, and I’m sure Pris’ relief.
When Pris finished her first semester I know she was glad to be home, and I was glad to have her home. Our empty nest was now full once again, but it didn’t take long before the subject of Sarah was raised, and I cannot honestly tell you who broached it first. Despite all of my arguments to the contrary Pris was convinced that Sarah had her sights on me with no good intent in mind.
OK, it was stupid on my part, but that’s because I was uneducated in such terms. I told Pris that I didn’t think that Sarah cared for me that much. In fact, when we were leaving the crowd in front of the cafeteria I distinctly heard Sarah tell her friends I was a dillweed, and they all agreed emphatically and laughed. Pris let out a scream of exasperation and promptly stormed out of the room. Jenny ran after her after hearing her bedroom door slam.
Later I received my education when Jenny came sit by my chair to explain what happened. She told me the term is DILF, not dillweed.
Same difference, I offered.
Not quite. DILF, I learned means Dads I Like to Fornicate, except fornicate is not the exact term used. I don’t know if I was mortified, honored, or treated like a piece of meat. Jenny looked serious with her hand on my arm. I said nothing except, “oh.”
The subject of Sarah was taboo the remainder of the break. Thank god, the rest of the holidays passed uneventfully except for good wishes freely expressed.
Jenny brought Pris back to school. We thought it prudent that I not be put in that environment, since things were going so smoothly. The rest of that semester went just as smoothly, even when I drove her back after Spring Break.
Pris was back in the nest that Summer, too, working at the mall. It was just like old times — almost. It seems that Pris had become a little liberal in her mannerisms and behavior. It was not unusual for me to see her yawning, half-sleepwalking to the bathroom each morning in her pajamas. But her attire had become quite skimpy and all but nonexistent. More than a few occasions I did a double-take to see if she had anything on below the waist. A little thong was all that remained of her modesty, and I have to say that my comfort level was about as substantial as her underwear.
I never mentioned this to Jenny, and she was rarely awake when Pris prepared for work.
Also, Pris was leaving her bedroom door ajar after returning to the bathroom, and I frequently was treated to a view of her bare back, and once or twice her bare butt — all inadvertently, mind you. And I’m sorry if this sounds wrong, but long blonde hair against bare skin will even make the Pope stare.
She seemed to have mellowed quite a bit from the raw freshman, and had settled into a lackadaisical lifestyle, that, frankly, had me a bit worried.
I approached Jenny one evening with my concerns and asked if she had ever had “the talk” with Pris. I was worried that she had become sexually active, and, while I am not ok with that idea, I thought it wise that she be educated.
Jenny assured me that Pris knew everything, but also told me that Pris had confided in her that she was still a virgin. I was relieved but not completely convinced.
For some unexplained reason Pris got interested in football, something I tried to get her to do last year, since I really wanted to go to some games, but couldn’t justify the six-hour drive to sit by myself in the stadium. But she really learned all about the team pretty quickly, and I’d received sometimes five text messages a day talking about the coach, quarterback or gaps in the defense. I finally had the boy I always wanted, I texted her back jokingly one day.
One day she surprised me with an actual phone call! She told me about the game of games coming up at the end of the next month. I chuckled to myself, because this rivalry had always been a huge game, but she was only just learning about it. Then she completely blew me away when she said she got two tickets — one for her and me! She purposefully left Jenny out because she didn’t want to blow $60 on her. One thing — I had to be a student, so I had to dress not like a dad.
In my four years attending school there I could never afford a ticket to go. Not once did I wonder how she snagged two. My euphoria in going did not allow me to ask questions.
I admit I was actually giddy driving down for the weekend. Now I was going to experience the big game, and sitting in great seats, too! I called her on the way down asking her if she knew that she could scalp these tickets at the gate and probably pay for the rest of her college. She laughed and said she couldn’t wait to see me.
I checked into the hotel and went visit my sweetie to take her out to eat. She was so excited to see me she jumped in my arm and wrapped her legs around my waist. We hugged and kissed, and then I have to honestly admit, I began to get uncomfortable down there because of the proximity. She didn’t even seem to notice; she was just happy to have me all to herself. We talked and laughed for three hours at the restaurant. Then I brought her back to her dorm where we stayed downstairs talking even longer. All of a sudden the buzz I had from the wine suddenly vanished when I saw Sarah and a few of her friends coming into the dorm. I looked at Pris who was still gabbing away, waiting for the moment when she would notice.
“Oh hi, Sar. Hey Jill, hey…” and she called each of the girls by name. “Remember my Dad?”
They all greeted me and smiled each swaying their hips like little schoolgirls. I smiled back and wondered what had happened between those two that caused this armistice. I was elated, to say the least, that the verboten subject of her roommate was finally removed from the no-speak list.
I kissed Pris goodnight and left for my hotel. We planned to leave for the stadium around 11:00 a.m. for the one o’clock game. There’s a lot to experience before kickoff, I told her. She promised to be ready, but I had my reservations knowing the she rarely woke before noon on weekends. I intended to get to her dorm at 10 just to be sure we left on time.
I had my workout, dressed and had breakfast before 8 the morning of the game. So I had an hour to kill on campus before making sure Pris was up and at ’em. I walked the quadrangle again taking in the beauty of the autumn leaves, knowing full well they’re probably ignored by most of the student population. I sure didn’t notice when I went to school.
I was lost in my reverie until I heard my name called. I turned to see Sarah coming from the cafeteria bundled against the morning cold. I thought the wool cap and mittens were overkill, but rationalized that it was kind of chilly. She skipped up to me and grabbed my arm holding on for what I assumed was warmth.
“How ya doin’?” she said through chattering teeth.
“I’m good, Sarah,” I answered. “Are you that cold?”
“Yeah, just drank about a half-gallon of O.J. It’s fresh this morning, probably cuz the big game,” she explained.
“I should bring some to Pris when I wake her up,” I said aloud to myself.
“Oh,” piped Sarah, “she’s been awake. Still getting ready, though. You heading that way?”
I told her I was so she hung on to my arm the rest of the way to the dorm. When we walked inside she flung off her stocking cap, and I was surprised to see that she had not only let her hair grow but that it was auburn. She was a blonde last time I saw her, and I’m afraid I was busted when she caught me looking at her hair.
“Yeah, this is the real me,” she explained. “Now the drapes match the carpet.” She smiled wickedly.
It took me a second, but I understood and became embarrassed. My cheeks turned red, and I could feel them burning.
She hugged her face into my arm saying, “Ooooo, you’re so cute!”
I honestly did not know how to respond. My heart sank when the worst possible thing that could have happened happened. Pris walked down the stairs into the parlor and saw Sarah hanging on my arm. I rose out of my chair as my remora hung on seemingly for dear life.
“Hi Tim,” said Pris. She didn’t look the least bit perturbed at Sarah’s public display. She soon released my arm saying she was going upstairs and reminding us to be sure to get some orange juice from the cafeteria before it was all gone.
“G’morning, Darling,” I pecked her on the cheek. “Sleep well?”
She nodded her head and took Sarah’s place on my arm. This was strange, indeed. I needed time processing what just happened with those two.
“Hungry?” I offered.
“Uh huh,” she nodded again, so we headed off for the cafeteria where I had juice and watched her barely eat. I should have been appalled that she selected the cinnamon roll over the granola and fruit, but I was used to her bad eating habits. Her metabolism was amazing and helped her maintain 115 pounds since her senior year in high school through her freshman year.
I told her I packed a bag for the game with some goodies. She said that she had, too. She warned me that all bags would probably be searched, so unless I hid my stuff well it would probably be tossed before I got through the gates. That made me rethink how to carry the stuff in, but I didn’t think too long about it. Instead, I was wondering what kind of bag she packed.
We actually left a half-hour before our planned time, and I’m glad we did. The area outside of the stadium was a hotbed of activity with tailgating up and down the boulevard. As far as the eye could see there were little tents and grills smoking making the whole place look like a Boy Scout Jamboree, well, except for the booze — and that flowed freely.
I was led to one tent with greek letters emblazoned on everything. My very excited step-daughter introduced me to some of the characters grilling and drinking and making smart remarks. I wondered to myself which one of these assholes was having their way with my beloved little girl. I don’t know if any of them sensed my mood of inhospitality, but they hid it well if they did.
We were offered beer and hard liquor, which I refused and was about to do the same for Pris, when she spirited a tiny silver bottle from somewhere beneath her jacket.
“Pris!” I shouted aloud in spite of myself.
“It’s cool, ‘Dad,'” she said with special emphasis on ‘dad’ while rolling her eyes. I caught myself and remembered my college days. Then I remembered too much and once again my hostility toward the frat boys was rekindled.
She took a tiny nip, then capped and re-stowed the bottle.
“Not gonna offer your old man a hit?” I joked with her.
“Sure, if you want,” she said quickly going back into her jacked. I grabbed her arm and told her I was kidding. She knew I was a lightweight at drinking. A little wine calms me down; two glasses make me mellow. More than that and I’m useless.
We went down the boulevard, Pris introducing me to people impossible to remember. We’d stop and visit for a while. Pris would take a little nip, and I realized I didn’t even know what she was drinking. And where did she get that flask?
Along the way we met up with some of her dorm mates including Sarah. They giggled and laughed aloud, and I suspected that more than a few of them had been doing more than nipping like Pris. Suddenly we were a crowd going down the boulevard. Boys would call out to the girls, and the girls would be very raunchy calling back to the boys. Boy, times sure have changed. It seemed that the girls were much more risque in public than any of the guys. They talked to each other as if I wasn’t even around.
I know I became embarrassed hearing them talk about some of the boys, about how small one of their “peckers” was, or how another couldn’t keep it up very long. The conversation had degraded to an awful level, and I glanced over at Pris, who thankfully, wasn’t a part of it, to see if she saw my discomfort. She happily chatted with Sarah and another “good” girl near the front of the crowd while I was surrounded by what I came to know them as, sluts.
“Pussy pounder… licks like a pussycat… cums too soon,” were all descriptions I was hearing vividly.
“I need an older man that knows how to treat a women right. That knows how to pleasure me just right, and all night long,” was a phrase that was definitely meant for my ears because I saw the girl who said it staring right at me. Perhaps she thought I was as drunk as she was, but that’s a poor excuse for being stupid in public.
When we got the alumni tent all of my resolves were conquered by a persistent Phil German, an old classmate and president of this year’s association. I found myself with a Jack and Coke and a bratwurst in a bun in my hand. Not even a whole wheat bun. “Ah, what the hell,” I told myself. I’ll pay for it on Monday.
The buzz from the liquor lasted right up through kickoff and Pris had to pull me up and down by my arm to cheer the team. After a while I started to feel pretty happy watching our boys steamroll over their defense. That QB could do no wrong.
“He’s never thrown an interception, you know?” Pris screamed in my ear. My heart was elated hearing her say this, like we could finally speak the same language.
I watched her take the little flask out every now and then and just take the tiniest sip. I finally asked her to share and she willingly offered the flask. One little sip was all you need I learned quickly. It was some type of liqueur.
She saw the look on my face and yelled in my ear, “Cointreau!”
Oh, my baby likes the good stuff. The Cointreau warmed my insides and soon I had unzipped my jacket. The sounds, smells and booze combined to make me feel as if I were having an out of body experience. Teamed with the fact that I was living a lifelong dream and watching the game of games I knew life couldn’t get better than this.
The final score of 48-13 had us cheering, hugging, kissing, high-fiving everyone around us. I think every one of the girls in that gang kissed me, and I suspected a few came for seconds. I was almost oblivious to the frivolity around us. I was just happy and in an incurable good mood – and what felt like a permanent buzz.
I have no idea who was driving my car, but I was in the back seat with Pris sitting in my lap, and three other girls squeezed back there with us. I thought I was imagining things at first, but there definitely was someone’s hand under my butt squeezing. I didn’t even give the culprit the satisfaction of knowing that I felt it, but continued to talk about the game and how well our players did. Pris even mentioned some specific plays, and we had an in-depth discussion of each one. The other girls just giggled and laughed.
We drove for a while before I realized that we were not heading back to campus. Instead, the car was parked in front of this large house with quite a few people on the lawn. We scrambled from the car, a mass of entangled bodies trying to become untangled, and I almost let out a cry of surprise when I felt a hand openly grope my crotch from between my legs. I turned quickly to the girl behind me, a cute little brunette who simply said “Oops, I thought it was the door handle.”
I hadn’t a clue how to answer that, so I let it go. That was probably my first mistake besides getting tipsy.
We walked into the house and there seemed to be a full bar in every room since everyone there had a drink in their hand. I had to quickly leave the living room because of all the smoke. I soon found myself in a large rec room with a pool table and a ping-pong table. A foursome was cuing up at the pool table, but I couldn’t figure the ping-pong table out. There were a number of cups placed in pyramid fashion on each end of the table and people were trying to toss balls into each cup. I don’t know if I was fascinated or just dumbstruck, but I watched this strange activity for a long time. Each time a ball would land in the cup someone would have to drink its contents. When all the cups were gone that team lost.
“Wanna go next?” I heard the voice in my ear. I turned to see Pris standing next to me.
“What’s in the cups?” I think I asked her.
“Probably beer.” she responded.
I’m anything but beer drinker. Never had a taste for it, but if I had to drink it I could stomach it for a while.
“Sure,” I said with a certain amount of bravado.
So we set up the cups, six of them and were given three ping pong balls. I have a pretty good arm with a fairly decent aim — when I’m sober. I found out I’m a horrible shot when I’m drunk.
Pris had pity and drank the first cup, but before long we lost, and I had downed three half-cups of beer. I sat down on the closest couch to keep the room from spinning too wildly. I found myself with company before I knew it. Three girls that I don’t remember seeing before joined me on the couch. I know we were having a conversation, but I still cannot recollect any of it. I must have been suave because they stayed and giggled for quite a while before Pris came to collect me. I thought we were going home, but instead she led me somewhere me to another room far from the smacking of the billiard balls, and I could actually hear conversations in here.
The trio had followed me in there, and they were soon joined by even more girls. I found myself holding court with an audience of very beautiful women. It wasn’t too long before I noticed that a few of them were wearing very little on top as the cleavage presented was demanding almost my entire attention. This was not lost on the girls who laughed and noted my inability to focus elsewhere.
“I think he’s a breast man, ladies,” one of them said to the others.
“Most definitely,” said the most well-endowed one there and the main object of my attention. I could think logically in my mind, but I could not physically alter my actions. It’s hard to explain, but the tits were beckoning me to look at them, and look I did.
As if I wished it to happen, the well-endowed one, Emmy I heard someone call her, pulled down the neckline of her shirt and exposed herself to me. I gawked with abandon at the sight. The pair were a vision of loveliness, and I know their image is burned on my retinas to this day. Well, seeing such a vision of pulchritude displayed with a degree of lustiness had a natural effect on me, and this was not lost on the astute ladies in the crowd.
“Shit, he’s got an erection,” one of them called out.
Oh crap, I thought to myself. I’m letting myself get out of hand. My mind kept telling me to do something — adjust myself or move around. But my body just continued to gawk at the treasures before me and grow hard as a rock before their lusty eyes.
“Damn, I think he’s still growing! Or is that just his pants creased like that,” one of them asked.
I felt a hand grope my rock-hard rod firmly, and someone responded in a laugh, “Nope, it’s all him!”
“We should do something about it, huh?” I recognized Sarah’s voice and for a second I was back in reality. But just as quickly I returned to la-la land as I felt hands at my belt. I responded by kicking off my shoes, and then I heard more laughter.
It was the hands on my chest that distracted me. I felt my shirt being unbuttoned, and then warm gentle hands were rubbing me on my chest playing with my hair. That’s why I didn’t feel my pants being pulled away. That and the fact that some of the girls around me were taking off their clothes as well. The brassieres caught my attention before the bare breasts did. It reminded me of Pris walking around the house in her underwear.
I distinctly remember one girl asking me to undo ‘this,’ and the next thing I knew I had undone her bra. She turned to thank me by offering her breasts to my still extended hand. I don’t remember when hands started groping me through my underwear, but they were fully underway by the time I turned my attention down there.
There was a lot of activity around me, and I realized that not all attention was on me. In fact, there were only about four girls around me, and that made me feel a little less self conscious. I looked to my left and saw a completely naked girl lying right next to me, and when I looked down I saw a full head of auburn hear between her legs moving around.
The sudden realization of who that was was abruptly forgotten when I felt my manhood being swallowed by someone between my legs. I looked down quickly and saw that my dick was sticking out from the leg of my briefs and was being sucked on by a girl whom I had never seen before. But she was being watched closely by Jill from Pris’ dorm. Then Jill grabbed my shaft from the other girl and she started to lick and suck on me.
I couldn’t even respond to this pleasure. I just threw my head back on the sofa and gasped aloud.
I saw Sarah lift her head from between the girl’s legs and call over to Jill, “He’s a whopper, huh? I knew it!”
The feeling was incredible. I felt my right hand being pulled up to feel a breast. I looked over and saw Emmy rolling my hand over her tremendous boobs. She was completely naked and smiling at me wickedly. I savored the feel of those heavy lumps of flesh in my hand. But the feeling was short-lived because she removed my hand from her breast and placed it right between her legs. My finger plunged into a valley of wetness. I stroked her slick slit up and down, and as if by instinct I slipped two fingers inside of her causing her to moan, spread her legs a bit wider and buck forward.
I tried in vain to remember how this orgy started, but what little senses that had returned to me noted that there were three girls in prone positions being serviced by the other girls. I looked carefully, and did not see another male in the room. I had no idea where we were.
I felt myself getting harder than I ever remembered. The stimulation was overwhelming, but I was not in fear of cumming too quickly. The two girls providing oral ministrations were obviously experts and knew how to stay on the safe side of the line.
Emmy was bucking against my hand hard, and I found my other hand entwined in the hair of the blonde pleasuring me down below. She moved herself sideways toward me so that I could reach behind her. I let my hand drift back there and began to feel my way around digging into her wetness.
With an anguished cry Emmy grabbed my hand with both of hers and pulled me into her holding on tightly. She collapsed right there on the floor, her big tits flopping around. I felt my dick lurch in someone’s mouth when I saw that.
The thought “Damn, I’d like to fuck her” immediately flooded into my mind unbidden. But the truth was that I did want to fuck her. She was gorgeous, a knockout! And since I was already deep in the throes of sexual depravity, I figured why not? I really wanted to fuck somebody right now.
As if sensing what I was thinking, both girls released my manhood from their liplock. Jill stood up in front of me with her hand firmly on my cock. She spread her legs and moved forward straddling my knees. I was going to get fucked.
It was like I was in a dream when I saw someone come behind her, pull her hair back away from her ear and whisper to her. A smile came on Jill’s face and she drunkenly moved back away releasing my dick.
My brain screamed inside of me, but again my body refused to respond to any logic. Pris, my own step-daughter, stood before me completely naked. Before I could gauge her loveliness she grabbed my dick and jerked it back and forth a few times. I sucked in my breath not believing what was happening.
“I knew you were one hung bastard,” she said to me in a very intoxicated voice. “You’re big, but do you know how to use this?” she laughed as she swayed her hips in a very seductive dance. Next she straddled my knees and inched her way toward me still swaying her hips from side to side making my legs bounce between hers..
I knew that my body was not responding to my brain because I not only remained erect; if anything I got harder!
She rubbed the tip of my cock against her beautiful cunt lips, and somewhere deep down there was a feeling of surprise that her sex looked so mature. I saw the slightest bit of blonde hair adorning the junction of her legs. I looked up into her face and saw her half closed eyes indicating she was almost in a trance. Her breasts were as beautiful as any I’d seen, including Emmy’s mounds. My hands could not resist. I lifted them upwards and helped myself to the offerings of my step-daughter. I had given into my dark side and I was going to let her fuck me.
She continued to slide my cockhead up and down coating it with her juices. Then she stopped with my dick perfectly positioned. Before I could fully comprehend she impaled herself on me first just taking in the head. She bounced up and down grunting quietly, while I kept my hands on her breasts, stimulating her nipples with my fingers. Little by little she inched my manhood into her.
When she reached a comfort level she began to stroke up and down. My logical brain cursed at me. One part of it wanted to think that she was an experienced lover who had done this on more than one occasion. The other part damned me for taking her virginity. My body enjoyed this nubile beauty through all its senses.
It was obvious she could only take so much. She barely sank half my shaft into her. The feeling was excruciating. It felt so good that it was pure torture. I wanted more. The sadistic part of me want to sink it to the hilt knowing that I would probably cause her pain. The loving side of me wanted to go slow and pleasure her all night long. The logical part of me was trying to locate the nearest gun shop so that I could shoot myself.
I told the logical part of me to take the rest of the night off. Thankfully, it did. I was now left to enjoy this fantastic experience without further hindrance. I rationalized that it’s already happened, and there’s little I can do about it.
Pris crept forward slowly and was pretty soon half-sitting on my abdomen. The feeling wasn’t as pleasurable to me, but I could tell it changed for the better for her. She started to moan and grunt a little louder. I noticed that we had a larger audience than before.
Pris fell forward putting her hands on my shoulder. I left her breasts and put my hands on her hips to steady her and guide her. Before I knew it she began to mew like a kitten. A long high-pitch screamlike noise came from deep in her throat, and she pressed herself hard against my cockhead just barely inside her.
With a final scream she fell against my chest, and I selfishly pulled her hips down to impale myself a little further in her. She did not move. After what felt like an hour, but was more probably two minutes, she fell off of me sideways onto the sofa. The girl next to us made room for her to fall.
Before I could register what was happening I felt my dick engulfed again and looked up to see Emmy riding me, her big boobs bouncing to my delight. She was not afraid of going deeper, and I took this as permission to take control. I grabbed her by her butt cheeks and forced her toward me. She placed her knees on the sofa and smothered my face with her mounds. I was in heaven for sure. I licked and kiss for all I was worth at the same time spreading her cheeks to impale myself fully inside of her.
She grunted with each thrust, and I wondered how long she or I could last.
What almost set me over the edge was when I heard one of the other girls yell at the others, “Come see this. He’s huge and he’s going all the way in!”
I felt hands on shaft as I would withdraw from Emmy, then I felt them on my balls massaging them. That was too much for me.
“I’m gonna cum,” I managed to croak in Emmy’s ear.
“It’s ok, cum in me,” she panted.
“No,” I heard some of the girls cry out. “Out here! Out here!”
I don’t know if they grabbed me out of her or if Emmy released me, but two hands were on my hard shaft pumping back and forth until I released my seed into the air. I looked over Emmy’s butt to see one of the girls purposefully putting her face in the way to catch most of the discharge while she pumped away.
She continued to pump while Emmy tried to get off of me gracefully, but we both knew that was impossible. She, too fell to the side like Pris, whom I wondered where she had gone. When I was about to tell jack-off girl to stop she popped the head of my cum-covered cock in her mouth. A bright light went off behind my eyeballs and I almost passed out from the sheer pleasure!
I know that I fell asleep for a while before the Bacchanalian revelry continued throughout the night. There were masses of female forms entwined around me, while others were ministering to my re-inflating organ. Before too long I had another rider, and even later in the evening I was on top and then behind. I apologize that the details of the rest of that evening are lost somewhere in the back of my mind.
The drunken excess finally took its toll and I was spent permanently that evening. I doubt my absence would stem the tide of pleasure these woman found in each other. I was just one plaything removed from action.
I awoke naked the next morning surrounded by countless naked females around me, some entwined in each others arms. The place reeked of sex, sweat and alcohol. Each movement caused my pounding head to remind me why drinking is not a choice for me. My crotch was sore, and my pubic hair was stiff with dried cum. My fingers stunk to high heaven. Actually, they smelled quite sexy and even caused my painful groin to stir, but they still stunk. Even my lips stunk which made me wonder what happened after I was out. My stomach churned admonishing me of my foolhardy ways with liquor. Thankfully, I didn’t get sick.
One girl was sleeping on my foot, and I removed it carefully causing her to stir only very little. I found my pants and briefs stuffed under the sofa beneath me. I looked around and saw my shirt on the lamp table on the other side of the room. I scanned for my shoes while I carefully treaded naked girls on the way to my shirt. I gave my socks up for lost, but I really needed my shoes before I left. My plan was to leave and check out of the hotel after a quick shower. Then I would just head home without having to come to terms with Pris. Neither one of us could offer any explanation that could even remotely justify our behavior last night.
I finally gave up on the shoes figuring they were probably under one or two sleeping bodies on the floor. Must have been the parent in me, but I looked carefully at each figure to make sure she was breathing. They all rose and fell gently assuring me they were enjoying or at least experiencing slumber. OK, it wasn’t really the parent. I did stare openly at the beautiful breasts seemingly littered on the floor. A slight stirring in my loins was my tap on the shoulder that it was time to move on. I hoped that none of them shared my size of headache.
Resigning myself to give up my shoes for lost I opened the door and walked barefoot out of the room, wondering not only what room we were in, but whose house this was. As I was pondering that thought I was stopped cold by the figure in front of me: Pris.
She stood there with a smirk on her face and my shoes and socks in her hands, elbows at her side. Thankfully, she was fully clothed.
“Thought you might need these,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Yeah, I do. Thank you.” I answered sheepishly. I put my shoes on, stuffed the socks in my pocket and walked down the stairs to the front door when a thought hit me.
She held out my keys.
“Thanks again,” I said taking the keys from her hands.
We drove off in silence. I glanced back at the house.
“It’s the Lambda House,” she said as an explanation. “It has the worst reputation of all the sororities.”
“Why in the world did we….”I began.
“I didn’t have a lot of say, remember. And really neither did you.” she stated.
“Pris…” I tried again.
“Tim, look. We can lock ourselves up forever and never move forward from here being eternally sorry that it ever happened. That won’t change anything, you know. Take a left at that light.”
I had to stew over that a bit and did not respond. I pulled up to the hotel and realized that I didn’t have the key to my room. The front desk quickly made another and we rode the elevator again in silence.
The minute I closed the door to the room she sat herself down on the bed and forced me to confront her.
“Look!” she almost cried, “what happened happened, ok? And yes, in case you’re wondering, it was my first time!”
My heart sank two floors below me.
“But I wouldn’t change anything that happened if I could,” she said almost pouting.
What? I thought to myself. What is she saying?
“In case you never realized it you’re a very attractive man, but not only that you’re an extremely loving person and the only person I could trust with myself. I haven’t been the wild woman like those others. I’ve seen them get like that, but I never wanted that. You gave me just what I needed, understand? Now, if you can’t leave it like that I’m sorry. I love you, Tim. I always will. You have brought me through many phases in my life, important things. I don’t know if you know that. I’ve watched you weather some storms and have always been in awe of how you handle situations. Your strength has been an inspiration to me. Sometimes earlier this year I realized what you meant to me. Yeah, I think Sarah showed me that. I hated her last year for liking you so much. But then she made me realize what she liked in you, and I found out I liked you like that, too. I’m sorry if it hurt you and if you need go do therapy to figure it all out. But it happened and I’m glad it did. Sorry.”
Then she began to cry. I rushed to her to console her and she fell apart in my arms. She wept openly and I felt myself tearing up, too. I brushed her hair and held her close not saying a word. I hugged her tight and her tears soon subsided.
“You ok, darling?” I whispered.
She looked at me wiping her eyes and nodded.
“Me, too.” I smiled.
“Really?” her eyes widened.
“Really,” I reassured her.
I hugged her tightly again and then said, “I gotta take a bath. Whew,” and got up from the bed heading to the bathroom.
“Tim?” I heard a sheepish voice behind me. “Can I take one, too… with you?”
I pondered this request for a second, but then waved her toward me.
We held each other in the warm water cuddling the whole time. Nothing sexual passed between us; we just soaked up each other’s company. When we felt the hot water giving way we both quickly soaped up and rinsed.
“I’m going to have to burn these clothes or Mom will be highly suspicious,” I joked packing my bag while she toweled her hair.
“Leave them with me. I’ll do them and bring them back when I come home in a couple of week.” she offered.
“Couple of weeks? You’re coming home for a visit?” I asked with a big smile on my face.
“Yeah, is that ok? I can get a ride with Andrew Baxter. He goes home every weekend to work with his dad. Said whenever I needed a lift.”
I left the clothes with her and dropped her off at her dorm after another huge hug and long kiss. I drove off headed for home with a lot of things to think about. There were a lot of pieces out of order here, and it would take me some time work through them.
I was shaken from my thoughts by my cell phone buzzing that I had received a text message.
“Please come back. I miss you” was all it said.
My heart jumped knowing that my relationship with my step-daughter had changed forever, and in my mind for the better. But the number of the text message — it wasn’t Pris. It was a strange number.
I punched dial and waited for the phone to ring.
“Hello?” came a female voice from the other end.
“Hello, who is this?” I demanded.
“This is Emmy. Tim?”