You wanna know how I ended up burning half the bacon?
I’ll tell you.
What you think about me after — well, shit. I usually finish, “might say more about you than it does about me,” but this time it might simply say a lot about me. And her.
Emma is my stepdaughter. Junior in high school. Almost 17. I love her.
So when it was just going to be her and I for the weekend, and she asked if her classmate Bekki could have a sleepover, I said, “Sure. What do you two want for dinner?”
They wanted pizza.
I came home during my lunch break to make the dough, and stuck it in the fridge so it wouldn’t rise too fast. Stopped for toppings on my way home, threw the stone in the oven, and divided the dough for the second rise while the oven heated.
It was a good dinner. The only problem was Bekki.
Both the girls are into sports, and while Emma is fit in a stringy way, Bekki is fit in a less harsh, more sensual way. I’m going to trust you know what I mean.
The girls had come from practice after school. They were wearing short shorts and tank tops.
Bekki, though, was also wearing over-the-knee red socks with white stripes banding the tops. My eyes were drawn to the smooth skin between the shorts and socks. The fluid flex of muscles when she moved.
And when she had first arrived — “Hi, Emma’s daddy!” — and hugged me, it was obvious she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her breasts weren’t big, but her nipples were pronounced.
I tried to focus on the pizza, and poured a glass of wine as soon as the first one went in the oven. The girls gossiped and giggled about school, and I played the attentive dad. Soda? Cheese and crackers while we wait? Hey, have you ever tried a virgin cocktail?
By the time dinner was over — I like to make pizza a long, slow meal with lots of hanging out and haggling about toppings — I’d had a glass more wine than I should have, and decided to leave the girls to do girl stuff. Besides, I was tired of hearing about the lame guys they crushed on at school. I felt like I’d taught Emma better.
But Bekki was stuck in my head — her shorts, her tank top, her lithe muscly thighs, her nipples. At some point she had taken off the socks, and I was disappointed. And turned on.
Upstairs, I was restless. My penis was in that place where it wasn’t hard, but was throbbing from the inside out. It felt thick, and heavy.
I decided to take a shower and calm down. Stupid, because showers always make me horny. Don’t tell me you don’t enjoy soaping yourself.
Anyway, by the time I was done showering, my penis was huge. The head was purple. I let the water drip off me, and slowly stroked myself. I took my time because I knew the girls were watching a movie.
God it felt good. Sex is one thing, and masturbating is another. There’s something about self pleasure. The knowing what works. The anticipation and denial. The fulfillment.
Plus, when you’re masturbating, you get to imagine whatever you want. Forgive me, but I imagined Bekki.
I was past the point of return when she opened the door.
I grunted, “Sorry,” and exploded.
“Oh!” Bekki said. “I’m sorry! I didn’t realise you were in here! Emm’s asleep! I needed to pee!”
“Jeez,” I said, once I could breathe again. “Shit.”
Her cheeks flushed.
“It’s ok,” I said. “Sorry. I thought the door –. Please don’t tell Emma. Our secret, ok?”
“Ooookay,” she said, slowly. “Well. I’ll help you clean up the floor.”
She unrolled some toilet paper, wadded it up, and got down on her knees.
I should’ve stopped her, but I didn’t. Her shorts barely covered the curve of her butt cheeks, and I stared as she wiped the floor. I noticed she got a tiny bit of cum on her bare finger.
“Gosh,” she said. “You made a big mess.”
“I know. Jeez. Here. Let me throw those away.”
“Ok.”
She handed me the sperm-soaked tissues.
“You, uhm, on your finger,” I said.
She licked her finger.
I died inside.
“Want to wash your hands?” I asked.
“No. All clean, now.”
She smiled up at me, still on her knees.
I couldn’t believe this teenager just cleaned my cum off the floor while I stood there naked. I didn’t know what to do, so I offered her my hand to help her up.
“Don’t you want me to clean this, too?”
She reached out and wrapped her fingers around my semi-erect penis. The gentle pressure of her hand squeezed out one last dribble of sperm.
She opened her mouth and licked my penis’s head clean. Swallowed, and smiled up at me.
“There. All clean now.”
Her tongue was soft and warm.
“Fuck,” I groaned. “Have you ever even seen one before?”
“No,” she said, “but I know girls lick them. It tastes nice. Salty.”
I took in the contrasts. Her smooth skin, my hairy body. Her innocent eyes, my penis resting in her hand. Her on her knees, cleaning up after me, me standing over her. I felt dominant and strong, yet helpless in her tiny hand. It was so wrong, and arousing.
She studied my privates.
“You haven’t got any hair down there,” she said. “Why?”
“I shave,” I said. “I like the way it feels when I, you know. Touch myself.”
Her fingers explored my smooth testicles.
“I shave, too,” she said. “As soon as it started growing.”
I know it was wrong to ask, but everything was already wrong, and I had to know. Plus, her gentle fingers felt so good on my testicles. A tickle. A tingle. Even though I just orgasmed, I could feel my arousal.
“Do you ever, you know. Touch yourself? Like I was?”
She blushed.
“Well, yeah, sometimes.”
“Does it feel good?”
“I guess, yes.”
The head of my penis was starting to grow in her hand.
“It’s getting bigger,” she said
“Your hand,” I said. “It feels good. What happens to you when it feels good?”
“Er … well. I get tingly. You know, down here.”
Her other hand dropped between her legs.
“And I get a bit wet.”
“Oh,” I tried to say, but it came out mostly as a groan.
She continued to massage my cock with her other hand, staring at my privates.
“Do you like the way I feel?” I asked.
“Yeah. It’s warm, and smooth. Hard, too.” She looked up at me. “Does Emma ever touch you like this?”
“Never.”
“It’s getting really big,” she said.
She stood up.
“I really do need to pee.”
Without seeming embarrassed, she pulled down her shorts and panties and sat on the toilet.
I couldn’t not stare at her bald pussy, her toned thighs, her clothes around her ankles.
My penis was hard again, and even though I’d just cum, it was starting to leak. Thick, clear precum oozed from the tip.
I stared at the shadow between her thighs and waited to hear the first trickle.
“Can I watch?” I asked.
“Watch me pee?”
“Yes. You saw me. Maybe it’s fair if I watch you?”
“Ok,” she said.
She stood up, legs astride the bowl, and started to dribble. I saw her smooth vagina, tensed thighs, taut stomach beneath her shirt. She must have needed to go badly, because she let out a tiny sigh as the dribble turned to a gush.
She smiled shyly. “Gosh! I shouldn’t have drunk so much Pepsi.”
I laughed a little. She was cute. Funny. Sexy. I watched her empty herself. When the gush faded to a trickle, and the trickle stopped, I grabbed some toilet paper.
“Here.”
“Thanks,” she said. She looked in my eyes. “You can do it if you want.”
She stood with her legs apart. I tried to keep my hand gentle and steady. I had no idea if I was doing it right. I probably took longer than I needed, but I wasn’t going to waste my chance.
“There,” I said. “I think that’s all of it.”
I tossed the tissue in the toilet.
“You’re soft,” I said.
“Thank you. You were very gentle.”
“When you touch yourself, are you gentle too?” I asked.
Her cheeks got pink.
“Yeah. I guess so.”
She stepped away from the toilet, clothes still around her ankles.
Her voice was hushed.
“You can touch if you like.”
My penis was raging at this point. A drool of precum hung from it. Even if I’d wanted to say no, I couldn’t have found the word.
I reached out slowly.
“Show me,” I said.
She took my hand and pulled it between her legs, then carefully rubbed my index finger along the smooth slit of her labia.
“Like this.”
She felt slick against my finger. Not pee. The creamy wet of her vagina.
She gave a small sigh and pushed her hips against my finger.
“Aaaah. Mmmm. Yes. Like that.”
She took her feet out of her shorts and panties, and moved them farther apart.
I tipped my hand to put gentle pressure on her clit, and kept stroking her slowly. She reached down and took my penis in her hand again.
“I’m going to make another mess if you do that,” I said.
“Do you want to make another mess?”
“I do.”
I curled the tip of my finger into her pussy.
She gasped as I entered her, then pushed against my finger to help it deeper inside. She started rubbing my cock with her little hand.
“Ohh,” she said. “It got so hard again.”
“It’s going to get even harder, and bigger, before it squirts,” I said.
It was unbelievably tight inside her. My finger was only to the second knuckle and it felt like I was stretching her.
As she rubbed me, I took off her shirt with my free hand. She swept her hair behind her and pushed out her breasts.
“Do you like them?”
I wanted to lose control. To bend down and take her entire small breast into my mouth. But I don’t want to scare her. Instead, I brushed one breast with my free hand.
“Do you ever touch these?” I asked
She nodded. Her hand clamped tighter on my penis and she stroked faster.
“When I’m touching myself. I squeeze them.”
“Do you play with your nipples?”
I rolled hers gently between my thumb and index finger. My other hand still cupped her vagina, my finger inside, almost all the way now.
She moaned. “Yeah … I do.”
A trickle of juices ran down her thigh.
I curled my finger against the front of her pussy and rubbed her inside.
“Ohhhh.”
Her slender hips thrusted against my hand.
I was close. My penis twitched in her hand, the dripping head rubbing against her stomach, when her vaginal muscles clenched my finger.
When I felt her clench, I let go of her breast, wrapped my arm around her waist, and started fingering her faster.
She was small and light and deliciously vulnerable in my arms.
“Ohhhh … Ohhhh,” she gasped, and her legs opened wide as her feet came off the floor.
I had never so badly wanted to make a girl cum in my life. As my finger moved inside her, I heard her moans change pitch and her breathing speed up when I touched a certain spot. I focused all my attention on that spot.
I could barely talk, but I rasped, “Too much?”
Her body started to shudder.
“No…no…not too much,” she gasped.
Her hips shook and jerked against my hand. She stroked my erection desperately.
I lost control in the best way, and started to thrust wildly in her hand.
“Fuck!” I groaned, and shot hot sperm all over her bare stomach.
She squealed. I kept fingering her as my sperm slid down her stomach and met my hand.
“Tell me when to stop,” I said as she moaned into my shoulder.
“Don’t! Don’t stop!”
By now her vagina had opened. One finger moved easily inside her. I shifted her in my arm, lifting her, and she wrapped her legs around my waist. I slid my hand to her little butt to support her weight, and kept fingering her. Her fluids drenched my hand, and I slipped the tip of a second finger inside her.
“Ahhhh! Ahhhh!”
My cum was warm and sticky between us as she clasped me tight. My fingers were a mess of us both as they flashed in and out of her.
I worried I was too deep, too fast, but she was gasping and writhing in the best way, and I’d never wanted to own someone’s orgasm more completely. Her body was out of her control, shaking and bucking against me as I held her tight and fucked her with my fingers. When she bit into my shoulder and hung on with her teeth, I knew not to stop.
My penis was still partly erect beneath her, drooping and leaking the last of my cum onto the floor. Her pussy was sopping around my hand.
I reached up with my thumb and brushed her clit.
“Ohhhhh! Ahhhhh!!”
She was a mess as she came hard against me.
“Yeah…yeah,” and her pussy flooded.
She sagged in my arm, and her weight pushed my fingers even deeper.
“Ohhh! Ohhh!”
One long orgasm ripped through her teenage body. Her legs lost their hold on my waist and shook in the air as I held her.
“Ahhh!…yes!…yes.”
Her head rolled against my neck. Very carefully I knelt, setting her on my leg.
She was still shaking, my fingers still inside her. The floor was a mess of both our cum, but I laid her on it anyway. I laid on my side next to her, head propped in my hand, watching her tremble through the last of it, gently massaging inside her.
“Oh my god,” she said. “What have you done to me?”
Her face was hot and flushed, her hair stuck with sweat to her forehead and cheeks.
“Did you like it?”
She lay there regaining her breath, legs spread, my fingers still inside her. Then she nodded.
“Yeah. I liked it.”
“Good,” I said. “Me too.”
“Do you want my fingers out?”
She nodded.
“I’m going to go slow, ok?”
“Yes.”
I slid my fingers out. They made a long, wet sound. Her vagina hung open. Fluids trickled out, toward her bum.
She whimpered.
“Owww. It’s sore.”
She was a puffy sight, for sure.
“My turn to clean you up,” I said.
She nodded, smeared with sperm, leaking heavily.
I was sincere in my offer, but also stupidly aroused by all of it. She was looking at me when I brought my fingers to my lips and tasted her.
She was so clean. Sweet, tangy, and delicious.
“Have you ever tasted yourself?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
I got up and ran warm water in the sink. Grabbed two wash towels from the cabinet. I soaked one, folded it twice, and laid it gently across her pussy.
I wet the second towel and wiped the sweat from her face. Tucked back her hair. I was trying to find the right words, but there probably weren’t any.
After cleaning her face, I worked down her body.
“Am I being gentle enough?”
“Yes. You are.”
There was sperm in her belly button, and I carefully wiped it out.
Even though she’s so young, she didn’t seem embarrassed about her nakedness. She just laid there and let me wipe her up.
“Let’s clean you up down there, ok?”
I wetted a third towel and knelt beside her. I carefully lifted the warm cloth from her vagina. It was still gaped open a little, but looked less swollen.
I gently wiped the insides of her thighs, then the creases of her crotch, and finally her labia.
“You’re very pretty down here, you know.”
“Am I?”
I couldn’t resist bending down and giving her a tiny kiss at the top of her slit.
“Why did you kiss me?”
“Sometimes men kiss things they like.”
“Oh. Ok. It’s nice.”
She smiled. “No one else has seen me down there.”
“Is it selfish to say I’m glad?”
“I guess not.”
“Do you want a bath?”
“What about Emma?”
“I’ll put on some clothes and go check on her. If she’s awake, I’ll tell her you couldn’t sleep and I said you could bathe.”
I filled the tub for her. Poured in some bubbles. Lifted her in my arms and set her gently in the tub, relishing the feel of her small, smooth body against my torso.
I washed her back, then cupped water in my hands to rinse it.
I stood up. Set out a towel.
“I’ll check on Emma.”
I paused in the doorway, took her in with my eyes.
“Thank you,” she said.
“For what?”
“For being nice.”
“I’ll cook you girls breakfast in the morning,” I said. “What’s your favorite?”
“Bacon and eggs.”
“Bacon and eggs it is, Bekki.”
“Night-night, then.”
I was almost to the stairs before I remembered I was still naked. Shit!
I ran to my room and pulled on some sweats. Wiped my stomach with a t-shirt and threw it in the hamper.
Downstairs, Emma was blessedly asleep. I tucked her blankets around her and readied Bekki’s spot to sleep. Fluffed her pillow. Shook my head at our lust. Breakfast might be rough.
Back upstairs, I poked my head in the bathroom one last time.
“You have everything you need?”
She didn’t answer. She lay in the warm water, eyes closed, hand moving lazily at her crotch, caressing her swollen labia. I watch her small breasts rise and fall with her breathing.
“G’night,” I whispered.
What we’d done was so very wrong. But it felt so right.