A Stepmom's Story Ch. 02

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Will the memories of their encounter destroy them?
3.8k words
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Part 2 of the 3 part series

Updated 11/01/2022
Created 05/09/2004
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Stacey walked slowly across the room to the dressing table, her bare feet making no sound on the deep carpet; the candles spaced around the room giving the only light, the flickering shadows hinting at hidden mysteries. She sat. Lifting the heavy silver brush from the table she began to pull it through her hair in long slow strokes, the rise & fall of her arm causing the thick cotton towel she was wrapped in to fall away from her body, draping across the sides & back of the stool. She smiled into the mirror, loving the play of light on her smooth just-scrubbed skin. The cool night air caressed her, raising gooseflesh across her arms & neck, puckering her nipples. She gazed down as they raised further, the aureole shrinking as the pink tips hardened. She shivered with delight.

She felt, more than heard, her lover approaching; before she could raise her head, his lips were at her neck, first kisses, & then playful nips with his teeth; every contact at just the right spot, each one pleasing her more than the last. She closed her eyes & tilted her head; raising her arms behind her, she ran her fingers through his hair. His hands snaked around her sides & cupped her heavy breasts & she groaned. The kissing had now moved to her back, & as his mouth travelled lower, softly brushing each indentation of her spine, his index fingers were circling the tips of her breasts. She placed her hands over his, squeezing, & he immediately took her lead; increasing the pressure he pinched her now aching nipples, tugging on them, milking them to a full inch in length. She felt moisture begin to flood her pussy.

Suddenly he lifted her body, & with a sweep of his arm sent the contents of the dressing table spilling to the floor. He bent her forward, & the glass top of the table was cold as her breasts were crushed flat against it. She tried to rise but he held one hand between her shoulder blades preventing her from standing. The other hand caressed her pink cheeks, his thick thumb running down her hot cleft, brushing across the tight brown button of her ass, the touch causing it to tighten, the involuntary muscle spasm that ran through her groin making her nether lips flower open. She felt the moisture begin to seep from her hot vagina. She was burning up, the ache in her pussy crying out for release; she wanted him, wanted his cock in her, his tongue on her most sensitive parts, anything to ease this sweet agony.

He knelt behind her, & she felt his hot breath tickle as his mouth closed over her rear passage. His tongue snaked forward, brushing gently over the puckered opening & she moaned aloud, her hips pumping up & down against his face. He moved lower & lapped at the small droplets of sweet nectar that beaded her fine pussy hair, teasing her puffy outer lips. She was making small noises now, mewing like a kitten, & entreating him to do more, to scratch the itch that consumed her whole body. His fingers roughly parted her labia, & as his thumb slipped into her hot canal, his middle finger circled her clit, stimulating the nerve core from within & without. She was panting now, arching her back & spreading her legs, opening herself to the invading fingers. Whimpering with lust she begged him to fuck her.

His fingers withdrew, replaced immediately by the hot head of his penis. He dipped the tip into her wetness then smeared their combined juices across her asshole, causing it again to dilate. He returned to her dripping entrance, then with barely a pause sank his entire length into her. She cried out, the cry turning to a moan of desire as he withdrew then slid back in again. Over & over he pistoned in & out of her, his heavy balls swing forward to slap against her swollen clit, heightening her pleasure. The waves of exquisite sensation pulsed through her, the blood that sang through her veins pooling in her sopping pussy, & the ultra-sensitive tips of her breasts that she brushed, back & forth against the glass tabletop to increase her own pleasure.

After what seemed an eternity spent in the grip of one long, drawn out orgasm, she felt him slow & lengthen his strokes, then with a loud moan he slammed into her further than ever before, the head of his cock ballooning, filling her even more. Pulling her head back roughly by the hair, he began to shoot jet after jet of hot cum into her cervix. Stacey saw herself in the mirror; a fine sheen of sweat covered her entire body, her hair plastered to her face, her body shaking with exertion, legs weak & barely able to support her in the aftermath of such a pounding; a red blush spread up across her breasts & neck as her orgasm suffused her entire body, & she cried out.

Her eyes were drawn to the shadow of her lover in the mirror, but as she tried to see his face, she realised a second figure was standing just behind him. The figure approached, the light catching his face. Jack. Her husband.

She gasped, turning her head to see whom it was behind her. Tears of shame rolling down his face was her stepson Paul; she felt his manhood buried deep inside her, filling her as she had never been before, heard him crying softly, ‘why?’ Jack was now at his son’s side & in unison they began to shake their heads, both their faces a mask of betrayal; together they accused & inquired, repeating over & over, ‘why, why?’

‘Why what?’

Stacey opened her eyes, & for a brief moment felt that dislocated sensation that comes from waking suddenly. She looked to her side. Jack, still half asleep was looking down at her with eyes barely open. ‘You kept saying why’, he yawned. ‘Why what?’

‘Nothing baby’, she said. ‘Go back to sleep, it was just a bad dream’.

He turned over, muttering something about ‘ 3rd time this week’, before his breathing slowed & deepened, telling her that he had fallen back into his usual deep, deep sleep.

She stared up at the moonlit ceiling & tried to sort the jumble of images that were circling in her mind. She had no doubt where the nightmare had come from, she had been having variations on the same theme over & over. What horrified her most was the aftermath of the dream; the sticky wetness of her vagina, the hard nipples that were poking against her cotton t-shirt, the dryness of her mouth that spoke of her excitement. The same type of dream, the same sexually charged content, the same signs of betrayal from her aroused body; every night for a month. The same long month that had passed since she had sexually molested her stepson in the shower. That’s what she had done, she told herself, she had molested her baby, abused him, destroying his life in a moment of sexual gratification.

She rose quietly & padded across to the en-suite, closing the door behind her before turning on the light above the bathroom cabinet. She sat on the toilet bending forward to rest her head on her knees. Immediately she could smell the musky scent of her arousal, & she sat bolt upright, the smell triggering visions from her dream. Lifting her t-shirt she studied her vagina. She had always kept her pussy hair trimmed, & her outer lips were clearly visible; puffy & inflamed, they glistened with her juices. Almost of their own accord her fingers brushed against them. They were tender to the touch, sensitive beyond belief, almost painful, & as her fingertips stroked them they slowly opened.

She began to breathe more heavily, one hand now inside her t-shirt stroking her breasts; her dream filled her mind, & as she slipped one finger into her hot pussy she gasped at the wet heat. Sliding her sticky finger to the top of her slit she traced a circle around her clit. Biting her lip to stay quiet she moaned at the sensation; her head thrown back, eyes closed, she saw Paul’s face flash into her mind. The vision filled her with conflicting emotions, lust & disgust fighting for control; her finger was now directly on her clit, & as her orgasm rushed toward her, lust won, & she whispered his name. As her legs began to tremble she spread them wide, opening herself up further, exposing her sopping pussy to the world. Panting with exertion she pushed three bunched fingers into her cunt, while the other hand milked her long clit, drawing the orgasm out of her with each squeeze.

Wiping herself clean she crept back to the bed, once again filled with self-loathing at her lack of control. She turned on her side & buried her face in the pillow. Closing her eyes, she wished for the millionth time that she knew what to do, & as she had almost every night for 4-weeks, she cried herself to sleep.

The morning brought no relief; Jack as usual was up & out before six, & the waking nightmare of another breakfast with Paul awaited her. She never knew how it would be, sometimes he would simply ignore her, other times he would try to approach her, the look of hurt on his face as she spurned him, heart breaking to her; other times would bring the accusations, the threats, but without fail every morning ended the same – him storming out of the house, her sobbing at the kitchen table.

This morning he was angry, & as she tried to mollify him he raged at her; accusing her of not loving him, of thinking only of herself, of lying to him. With a final scream of abuse he stormed out, slamming the door behind him. She saw his schoolbooks on the side & rushed out with them. He barely looked back at her as he walked down the drive, turning only to shout ‘fuck school’, before stamping off. She sank to her knees on the front steps, & clutching the books to her cried out to him. ‘I’m sorry’. He didn’t reply.

She went back into the house, the tears still rolling down her cheeks, & slowly climbed the stairs to the bathroom. Standing under the shower she tried to let the water rinse away the dread; it was no use. She looked at the shower floor, saw herself sitting there as she had a month ago, her face & breasts covered with Paul’s hot cum, her legs splayed wide, her pussy still leaking its sticky juices, the clit – which, God forgive her, Paul had sucked into his mouth – still throbbing & red with arousal. Paul had been looking down at her, his semi-erect cock still dripping semen, the large red head sliding back into the sheath of his foreskin. The enormity of what she had done hit her like a jackhammer. As the sexual heat left her, the endorphins dissipating through her bloodstream, she suddenly felt exposed in front of him. A stupid response considering she had been sucking his cock not 5-minutes before, but the shame suddenly robbed her of all dignity, damning her nakedness.

Paul had stepped toward her, & she had backed away from him, the thought of his eyes on her, so recently making her hot, now appalled her. ‘Get out’, she whispered. Not understanding what was happening Paul went to touch her. ‘GET OUT!’ She screamed. ‘Get out, get out’, over & over until he had pulled open the shower door, & with a backward look of hurt & confusion, stepped out. She spent the next 15-minutes scrubbing herself until her skin was red & sore. It was no use. She could still feel the lines of semen that had splashed over, burning her skin like branding irons. She dressed in baggy pants & one of Jack’s sweatshirts; then went down stairs. At every step she hardened her heart, steeling herself for what had to be done.

Paul was waiting in the kitchen, & as she entered he stood up. She stopped him with a look. Before he had a chance to speak, she folded her arms & in the coldest voice she could muster told him how it would be. What had happened had been a mistake, a disgrace that would haunt them forever. She was to blame, & therefore she would ensure that it never happened again. Ever. At the cold finality of the words Paul had tried to protest, telling her that he loved her, telling her how much he wanted her. She refused to let the pleas enter her heart, & told him that if he couldn’t live by these rules, she would leave. This was an extra barb for him; his mother’s departure, abandoning him & his father all those years ago an old wound, a wound that she had now reopened. He had hung his head, then turned & ran for the door, knocking the chair over & stumbling in his haste to depart. And so it had been, for the whole, long month.

Stacey returned from shopping that afternoon to see Jacks BMW in the drive. She parked her own car & walked in to the house. Immediately she heard raised voices: Jack & Paul. She walked with dread to the kitchen, & as she entered, saw them standing in the middle of the room, Paul was standing with his fists bunched at his side, while his father pointed his finger 2-inches from his face.

‘I don’t give a good goddamn if you think your James Dean, or whoever the hell this years rebel is. You will NOT throw your whole life away just because you can’t control your hormones. Is that clear?’

Paul sneered at his father, ‘you can’t stop me. If I want to drop out there’s nothing you can do’.

Jack saw Stacey enter & turned to plead with her. ‘Can you believe this idiot. I got a call at work to say that there had been trouble at the school. When I got there the coach said Paul had taken a swing at one of the other kids, & when they had tried to stop him, he went berserk. The guy had no choice but to report it to the principal, & he called me at work. At work!’ Turning back to Paul he snarled, ‘do you know how embarrassing that is? The principal asked me if I thought you were on drugs, for God’s sake! He says your grades have gone to shit this last month. What the hell is happening?’

Paul glanced at Stacey, & then turned back to his father. ‘Like I said, if I want to drop out I will.’

‘Not if you want to live under my roof boy.’ Jack was mad now & Stacey began to panic.

What was happening, how could her family be falling apart like this?

Jack turned once more to his wife, ‘you try to talk to him. You always seem to be able to get round him. Make him see sense, cos I’m not kidding. Its my way…….’ He let the unfinished sentence hang in the air, then with a disgusted snort, turned & left the house. They heard his car pull off the drive, leaving them alone.

‘I’m sorry’, Stacey whispered, & although it was barely a murmur, Paul heard her.

‘Don’t be’ he snapped. ’It’s not your fault I’m a freak.’

He turned & left the kitchen, & she heard his bedroom door slam a few seconds later.

Stacey sat at the table. As she thought about Jack’s words her mind became crystal clear; the thoughts that had been buzzing through her head like angry hornets now clicked into place, the turmoil & confusion of the last month now smoothed into a single clear picture; she knew what she must do. Whatever happened she must save her family.

Quietly she climbed the stairs, knocking softly at Paul’s door. He didn’t answer, but after a few seconds she entered. He was sitting on his bed, his head in his hands, & although he didn’t look up she knew he was crying. Stacey sat on the edge of the bed & stroked his hair.

Paul looked up, & with eyes full of love & hurt he said, ‘I don’t understand. What do you want? What happened between us was amazing, totally amazing, how can you not see that? How can you not want that to happen again? Don’t you love me anymore?’

Stacey smiled sadly, ‘of course I love you, but what we did was wrong, & although it was amazing, the fact that it was wrong cancels out the good bits’.

Suddenly the old Paul was back, & he shook his head, ‘that’s illogical.’

She laughed, it was an old joke between them from when Paul had been small, a reference to his favourite TV show Star Trek. ‘Thank you Mr Spock’ she said tartly. Looking at his face she could see how tired he was, the lines of fatigue that circled his eyes. ‘You look beat’, she said.

Paul sighed. ‘I haven’t slept much, you know, since then. I have funny dreams, & afterwards I can never get back to sleep. It’s too uncomfortable, you know..’

Stacey cocked her head, ‘no, I don’t know, we haven’t been speaking recently remember’.

Paul was looking a little sheepish, & mumbled something about ‘night stands’. Stacey giggled, & raised an eyebrow. ‘Isn’t there a way to take care of that?’

Now Paul was really embarrassed, & he turned to the wall saying, ‘I haven’t been able to. Not since that day. My head gets messed up & I can’t concentrate. It just doesn’t happen.’

She continued to stroke his hair, & as they sat in silence, just content not to be fighting anymore, Stacey let her mind drift, turning over the picture that had formed in her mind, studying it from all sides & finding no flaw in its simplicity. Slowly she leant forward & kissed him lightly on the head. Planting small soft kisses at each stage & whispering the whole time that she loved him, she held his head in her hands & turned him to face her.

‘There have to be rules,’ she said, looking deep in his eyes. ‘I set those rules & you must follow them, OK?’

Paul nodded, not daring to speak, not wanting to break the spell that fallen over them. She brought their faces close together & brushed her lips against his. They were dry & warm, & she let the tip of her tongue slip out to trace a line along his mouth. He opened his mouth & she ran her tongue across his teeth, along the inside of his lip, sending sparks of arousal through his head. Their mouths came together & they kissed. It was soft & loving, their eyes closed, they allowed their tongues to caress each other’s, luxuriating in the hot wetness.

Her hand slowly stoked his chest, then moved down across his stomach to rest lightly on his groin. She could feel his hardness beneath his sweat pants, the bulge of his manhood stretched out to his thigh. The touch made her feel giddy, & she pressed more firmly, feeling the pulse of his heartbeat as it pumped through his cock. They sat like that for several minutes, kissing, neither one wanting to move too quickly, to risk the moment. Eventually Stacey slipped her hand beneath the waistband, running her fingers through the curly brush of his pubic hair, running her fingertips along his length. Paul shifted around, freeing the end of his cock, & it sprang up, pointing at his flat stomach.

Stacey did not look down, but wrapped her fingers around the base of his cock & smiled into his loving eyes. ‘Shall I make it all better?’

Paul nodded, & laid his head on her shoulder. Slowly she began to masturbate his steel like cock, marvelling at its size & thickness. He began to groan & she realised that he was almost ready to come, the past month’s tension putting him on a hair trigger. Increasing her tempo she kissed the shell of his ear, & whispered softly, ‘come baby. It’s OK. Come for mommy.’

His hand slowly crept between them, reaching up to rest lightly on her breast, & she smiled. ‘It’s ok baby. You can touch them. I want you to.’ He cupped her breast & squeezed gently & she began to pump him more forcefully, her own arousal now a part of what was happening. She felt his fingers fumble with the buttons of her blouse, & although one part of her mind screamed no, the rest of her whole body shouted yes.

His hand was suddenly inside, pushing aside her bra, & he brushed his fingers back & forth across her hard nipple. Opening his mouth wide against her soft neck, his whole body went rigid & he pushed against her hand. Stacey felt the first pulse travel up the length of his cock, & as he pinched her nipple making her gasp, he cried out. His thick, creamy cum shot high in the air, the first long rope arcing over his shoulder to hit the wall behind, the next jet landed on her blouse, the third draping across his arm. She continued to pump his cock, the spunk still bubbling up from the red mushroom head, to run down the sides & across her fingers. She let the sticky seed coat her palm, & then smeared it along his length.

His hand was still inside her bra, & he gently squeezed her breast as his orgasm subsided. Stacey pulled him close to her, kissing the top of his head. Speaking into his clean smelling hair she said, ‘Now remember, I make the rules, & you have to follow them. Is that clear?’ Paul nodded, & kissed her neck. ‘Good’, she said, with a satisfied nod, ‘Because this family means everything to me, & I won’t let it fall apart because of something that I have control over’.

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