Don't Tell MommybyCianPerrel©
I was only 4 when my mother divorced my father, and took him for everything he had; she even got full custody of me, and refused to let him visit. She then went on to have a string of failed relationships. Most of the men she dated were jerks, and treated her like crap; but two of them treated her right.
She married the first one when I was 12, and he moved in with us. But it quickly became apparent, that even though he treated my mom well, he was not a good person; the last I heard he's still in jail.
She met the second one when I was sixteen, and married him a year later. He was a lot older than her; she being 36, and him being 70. But he treated her right, so it didn't bother me. He treated me like a princess.
But, it turns out, I was anything but. By the time I graduated high school, I had quite a reputation. My mother was none the wiser, believing me to be every bit the princess that her husband treated me like. But by the time I started college, I began to suspect that he was starting to figure it out.
Then one day, when I was busy upping my grade in Economics class with a blowjob, my step-dad walked into my teacher's office to discuss my bad grade. I don't think it could have gone worse, as he shouted my name in shock at seeing me on my knees sucking off my teacher. At the same time, my teacher came, splashing my face, and open mouth with hot come.
He grabbed my arm, and yanked me to my feet, dragging me out of the office, come still dripping from my face, through the halls, and to his waiting car. He shoved me in the passenger's seat, and drove away.
I sat there in complete shock, afraid to make eye contact, but unable to not look at him, as his face was contorted in rage. He reached over, and I flinched, thinking he was about to hit me; and his face softened. He opened the glove compartment, and pulled out a box of Kleenex. "Clean yourself up." He said, offering me the box.
I took the box, not trusting myself to speak, and proceeded to wipe the sticky come off my face. When I was done, I looked over to see that he no longer looked angry, but instead looked sad.
We drove home, and I followed him inside, keeping my head down. "Go to your room; I'll talk to you later." He said quietly, and even though I was 18, I still obeyed him as if I was a kid.
I shamefully walked upstairs to my room, and closed the door. I sat on my bed, and began to wonder what was going to happen. I was so afraid that he would tell my mom what had happened, and that she would get mad, and they'd pull me out of school. I wasn't smart enough to make it on my own merit; I had coasted by on my looks, and trading sexual favors for grades and assignments.
I must have sat there for almost an hour before I heard the front door open. I looked at my clock, and saw that my mom was home from work. I could hear her and my step-dad talking downstairs, but couldn't make out what was being said. Then I heard a heavy set of footsteps making their way upstairs.
My door opened, and my step-dad stepped in. "I told your mother that you came home from school sick, and that you aren't fit to go with her this weekend; so get in bed, and pretend to be sick, or I'll tell her what really happened."
*This weekend?* I thought, as I quickly climbed under the covers, not bothering to change, and laid down. *What's this weekend?*
He turned off the light, and closed the door.
*The spa!* It hit me. My mom had booked a spa weekend for both of us several months ago, as a mother/daughter getaway. I had completely forgotten that it was this weekend.
I heard light footsteps coming upstairs, and closed my eyes.
They stopped just outside my door, and I could hear them talking.
"I just checked on her." My step-dad said. "She's lying in bed."
"Is she okay?" My mom asked.
"She'll be fine, but I don't think she can travel." He said. "I think she has a stomach bug."
"Oh dear." She said. "Maybe I should just cancel the trip."
"Nonsense, Honey." He said. "You planned this trip months ago, and were looking forward to this; you deserve a spa weekend. Besides, it's non-refundable, remember?"
"I know, but I feel bad leaving her here alone." She said.
"She won't be alone; I'll be here to take care of her." He said. "You just call your sister and see if she wants to go with you."
"But it's such short notice." She said.
"I'm sure you'll find someone." He said. "You should probably grab your bags and head out soon, in case you need to make a detour to pick someone up."
"I guess." She said.
"Don't worry, Honey; she'll be fine here with me. And you guys can have another spa weekend some other time; my treat." He said.
"Oh, Steven; you treat us so well. How did I ever end up with someone as amazing as you?" She said.
"I'm the lucky one." He said, and then I heard them walking away.
I laid in bed, listening to the sounds of the house for about another hour, until I heard my mom's car drive off.
I waited another fifteen minutes before getting out of bed, and quietly heading downstairs. I found my step-dad standing in the living room, starring out the window.
"Um..." I started to say, but shut-up when I realized that I had no idea what I was going to say.
"Not now." He said. "There's a plate for you in the kitchen; eat it, and then take a shower. I won't talk to you while you're still 'dirty'." He said 'dirty' with such disgust, that I visibly flinched.
I made my way to the kitchen, and quickly ate the plate of pasta that was there, before heading upstairs to my room. I stripped down, and grabbed my bathrobe; then I headed to the bathroom down the hall, to take a shower.
For some reason, I felt dirtier than I ever had, and I scrubbed every inch of my body. After drying off, I put on my bathrobe, and stepped out into the hall; and nearly ran over my step-dad, who was standing just outside the door.
He grabbed my arm again, and dragged me to my bedroom, where he shoved me towards the bed, and closed the door.
His face was contorted in anger again, and he looked about ready to explode; so I did the only thing I could do, I started crying.
I begged him not to be mad at me, and to please not tell my mother. At least that's what I think I did; it came out all garbled through the sobs. I tried to lie and tell him that it was the first time I had done anything like, that, but I knew he was too smart to fall for it.
I had gotten so desperate to avoid getting into any kind of trouble, that I started waving my arms around like kid throwing a tantrum, before dropping to my knees at his feet, and wrapping my arms around his waist; crying against his leg. During my tantrum, the sash of my robe had come loose, and it was now hanging open, but I didn't even notice because I was so distraught.
"Hey, hey; get up off the floor." He said in a soft, concerned voice. "Come here."
He reached down and helped me to my feet, pulling me into a hug. His right hand made its way into my open robe, and around to my bare back, where he pulled me towards him, while his left hand pressed my head against his shoulder, and stroked my hair.
"Stop crying, Lisa; I'm not mad anymore." He said.
"Yes...you...are." I managed to choke out between sobs.
"No I'm not." He said. "I'm a little disappointed, but I'm not mad at you."
I don't know why, but hearing him say he was disappointed was worse than if he had been mad, and I started crying again.
"I'm...sorry." I said.
He didn't reply, but kept stroking my hair, his right hand rubbing my back.
He led me over to the bed, and sat down with me, my head still resting on his shoulder.
"I'm...really...sorry...I...disappointed...you." I said.
"I know." He said, and his free right hand found my right leg, and started rubbing it. "I know you are."
I looked up to see the anger gone from his face, and he leaned in to kiss my forehead. Then he kissed my check, before kissing my lips. This didn't seem weird to me, since I kissed everyone on the lips all the time. But when he lingered, I started to feel like something else was going on. Then he pulled away, only to kiss my lips again. His right hand left my leg, and reached for my robe, trying to pull it open.
I pulled back from him, grabbing my robe, and holding it closed. "What are you doing?" I asked.
"I'm not telling your mother, is what I'm doing." He said, yanking the robe out of my hand, and exposing my breasts to him. "And neither are you."
That was when I understood what was going on.
"But..." I said.
He released my robe, and I quickly closed it. Then he stood up and said, "Fine; I'll just call your mother right now and tell her to come back here, where I'll tell her exactly what I saw today. Then I'll tell her that I'm not paying another penny for your school, and that I'm going to go public with this incident. Do you think your mother will like everyone knowing her daughter is a little slut?"
He started walking towards the door, and I panicked. "Wait!" I shouted. "Don't tell her."
"Why shouldn't I?" He asked.
"Because..." I said, looking away. "Because I'll give you whatever you want." I stood up and removed my robe; letting him see me naked.
He walked back to me, and reached out, feeling my breasts. I kept my eyes closed, and my face turned away, as he fondled my breasts. Then his hand made its way down my belly and to my pussy, where he started gently running his fingers over it.
"Lie down." He said.
So I climbed onto my bed, and lay down on my side. I could hear him removing his clothes, and then the bed moved as he joined me. I felt his naked flesh press against my back, as he reached around and started feeling me up again. His right hand slid between my legs, and his fingers explored my pussy.
I soon felt something poking my butt, and I knew that he was hard. He used his right hand to lift up my leg slightly, and started rubbing his cock against my pussy. Despite myself, I was actually wet, and he was lubing up. Then I felt the tip press against my vagina, and he penetrated me.
I turned my face into my pillow and started crying, as he started fucking me. His hands grabbed my breasts, and he held on as he kept thrusting his cock inside me.
I didn't expect him to last very long, and resigned myself to letting this happen until he was done, but he had a lot of control and stamina. He went at it for so long, that no more tears would come, and my body was now starting to enjoy it.
I let out an involuntary moan, and he heard me. "You like this, don't you?" He asked, as he kept thrusting into me.
Afraid to answer, I just grunted a positive reply; hoping that it would excite him enough to finish. But instead, he reached down with his right hand and started rubbing my clit.
My body was now completely enjoying it, even though my mind was still repulsed by it.
Another moan escaped my lips, as he managed to make me come, and the quivering of my legs, and pussy let him know in case he hadn't heard.
"Oh, that feels good." He said. "I'm almost there."
It didn't take much longer before he finally pulled out, and forced me onto my back. Then he knelled next to my head, and pressed his cock to my lips. "Open up, and take it." He said.
I shook my head back and forth, feeling the wetness from my pussy still on his cock, rub against my lips.
He reached down and used his thumbs to force my mouth open. Then he shoved his cock into my mouth, and I could taste myself on him. He grabbed his cock and stroked it a couple of times. "Oh yeah!" he shouted as he came in my mouth. I couldn't move my head, so I had to swallow every last drop.
When he finally pulled out of my mouth, he sat back against the headboard. "Now, that was amazing." He said. "Just like I imagined it would be."
I laid there naked, not sure what was going to happen next.
"I imagine that your mother is probably fucking her lover right about now." He said, causing me to look up at him in shock.
"What?" I asked, forgetting that he had just forced me to have sex with him, and swallow his come.
"Don't act like you don't know. You both think you've been playing me for a fool, but I've known from the beginning." He said.
"I have no idea what you're talking about." I said.
"Your mother has been cheating on me since before we got married." He said. "It's where she goes when she goes to her 'book club'. Really?" He grunts. "How stupid does she think I am? I've never seen her read anything longer than a magazine."
"Mom is cheating on you?" I ask, sitting up.
"Yeah; with an old boyfriend." He replied. "I followed her one time, and saw them together at a motel. Then I recognized his picture from her photo albums."
"Then why haven't you said something?" I asked.
"Because, I'm an old man, Lisa; and I don't want to die alone. So I kept my mouth shut and pretended like nothing was happening; that way I could imagine I had a nice loving family." He replied. "It's pathetic, I know; but I just wanted my final years to be with someone. Even if that person was cheating on me."
"But you can't not say anything to mom; she can't treat you like this." I said.
"If I say anything, she'll throw me to the curb, and I'll have to start over with someone else." He said. "I'm too old to start over again."
"You're not old." I said.
"Lisa, I just turned 72, and your mother is 38. I'm 4 times your age, for Christ's sake." He said. "I should have grandchildren your age, but I spent my youth fucking around, and not being serious."
"So, you're just going to keep quiet and let her keep cheating on you?" I asked.
"Yeah, just like I'm going to keep quiet about you." He said. "And you had better keep quiet too, if you want me to keep paying for your schooling, and stuff."
He stood up, and collected his clothes.
"Wait." I said when he got to the door.
He stopped and turned around to face me.
I lifted the sheets and climbed under the covers. "Come back to bed." I said, patting the spot next to me. "I won't tell Mommy."
And that's the story of how I started having an affair with my own step-father. My mom's 'book club' meetings were the perfect time to have a little 'meeting' of our own. He would even come visit me when I moved out, and we'd have sex. This went on for 7 years, until he had a heart attack during one of our more rigorous bouts of sex, and died in the hospital later that night. My mom never found out about us, and he never told her about my 'extra-curricular' activities at school or work.
I've since developed a taste for older men, and am exclusively dating a rather wealthy older man, of 65. Surprisingly, my mother approves.