Penny Love

I'm a confirmed nudist. I wish society would permit anybody to go anywhere naked whenever they want. But, oh well. At least in my own house I can strip down and not worry about it. At least I could do that before I married Cherie and she brought her eighteen year old daughter to live with us. Cherie said Penny would "probably be okay" with casual nudity, but I decided to let her get to know me a little bit.

As it turned out, that was a good decision. Since then -- a year ago -- there have been a few times when Penny has surprised me in the nude. She is okay with it, but has expressed her desire to not see it too often. So I pretty much stay covered when she is likely to be around.

My stepdaughter and I have gotten along well since she first came to live with us from her hometown. We trade occasional backrubs and she is very affectionate in other ways. She will frequently give me a nice hug when she comes into the kitchen, or whatever room I happened to be in. All right. I admit that I've fantasized about fucking her. I'm in my fifties. she is not my daughter, nor a child. She's a young woman who is sexually active, though the guys in town apparently don't realize what they're missing. She hasn't gotten laid since she arrived.

That's something I knew because Penny is very open about sex. She was always complaining about it, so much so, that at my suggestion, Cherie got her a vibrator as a gift.

One morning, I was in the shower in our new house. I had designed it, including a "party shower". I wanted a shower that didn't need curtains or doors, so I made it 4'x6'. The shower head was deep in the end of the room so the floor stayed dry outside the tiled room.

As I said, I was in the shower. My wife had gone to work and Penny was still in bed. Or so I thought. Not that it mattered much. I always leave the bathroom door open when I shower. I don't care if Penny wants to come in and use the mirror, or whatever, but it hadn't happened yet.

I was rinsing my hair when I caught a movement at the door. I heard Penny's voice, "Oh! Sorry!" she called.

"No problem," I replied. "Did you want to shower, Honey?"

"Yeah, but I can wait."

"Okay. Or...you could come on in and join me. We can wash each other's back." This wasn't the shock it might sound like. Cherie had invited her to shower with both of us on a few occasions. Penny had always grimaced and turned her down. Her imagination, like most kids', didn't have room for the concept of her parents as sexual beings -- or naked beings, for that matter. So I only asked her that morning as a joke. But she surprised me.

"Really?" she asked, her head appearing again around the corner of the shower doorway. The collar of her white terrycloth robe showed around her neck. I was surprised, but the invitation had been sincere, even though given in jest.

"Sure. It beats using the brush to wash my back." To my surprise, she smiled and stepped into full view. She untied the sash of the robe, let it slide off her shoulders onto the bath mat, and stepped into the shower.

Penny is what might kindly be called voluptuous. "Zaftig". A "BBW". Okay, she's fat. But she's very pretty and proud of the large breasts her size has given her. In all this, except for breast size, she takes after her mother. Cherie's weight stemmed from two years spent in a wheelchair recuperating from a shattered ankle. Prior to that, she was very slender -- a dancer and dance teacher. So her breasts, while not small, are smaller than her daughter's.

Still, they are both attractive to me. I long ago rid myself of the prejudice that says slim equals sexy. "Sexy" comes from within, not from dress size. Anyway, as Penny stepped under the shower, she raised her arms to push her long brown hair back and wet it down. The action made her beautiful tits rise and point directly at me. She smiled and I smiled back.

"Uh...Honey," I began, but she interrupted me. I had been about to apologize for the erection that was building at my groin. I wanted to tell her to just ignore it and it would pass.

"Don't worry about it, Frank," she said. "I'm flattered. You know how little action I've gotten lately. It's good to see that I can get a rise out of a guy, even if it is my 'ancient' stepfather." She had that twinkle in her eye. As she spoke the last she turned away from me. It was too good an opportunity to pass up. There was her nice broad ass staring me in the face, as it were. She had just issued a challenge, and I knew she knew what was coming, though she would deny it. I delivered a resounding swat to her wet ass with my hand. She shrieked and spun to face me.

We almost slipped during the struggle that ensued. It was great. I had my arms around her and her naked ass was rubbing my hard cock between us. We were both laughing -- for about two minutes. Then we seemed to both realize our position at the same time. She stopped trying to escape and relaxed back against me. Taking my forearms, she raised my hands to her breasts and sighed. I lowered my lips to the side of her neck to kiss and nuzzled her. Her hands dropped to the sides of my legs and she stroked me gently.

she turned within the circle of my arms and I felt her nipples on my chest. Her mound, like her mom's was clean shaven. She looked up into my eyes and then leaned her head against my chest. Her arms went around my waist and we just stood silently there while the warm spray cascaded over us. I let my hands drop to cup her wonderful ass. She pushed her hips forward to 'hug' me with them.

We didn't actually wash each other's back until a couple of hours later. We got out, dried and went up to her room. We didn't actually have intercourse, but we did have sex. I suckled her tits and licked her to several orgasms. She demonstrated her oral talents on me (something she had been bragging about, along with her fondness for giving blowjobs) and we both indulged in some ass play.

After a while, we did finally go back down and shower. As I washed Penny's back I told her, rather uncomfortably, "You know, we should tell your mom about this."

Penny's eyes flashed their fright at me. "No! Jesus, Frank! She'll kill you and throw me out!"

"I don't think so. But I don't think I can live feeling this guilty. Besides, she'll probably be able to tell."

As it turned out, I was right about that. Cherie came home that afternoon as usual. When Penny came down for dinner, there was nothing different between us than there had been for the previous year. But something -- that sixth sense some women have, maybe -- tipped her off.

"Frank, come here," she said. I crossed the room to where she was sitting on the couch beside Penny. She looked from one to the other of us a few times before her eyes settled on mine. Squinting, she almost whispered, "You son of a bitch! You cock sucker!" Suddenly, she found the volume knob, "YOU FUCKED HER! DIDN'T YOU?"

"Mom, no," it was Penny, gripping her mother's hand hard to get her attention before something happened. "It wasn't Frank! It was me! And we didn't fuck."

Cherie's head swiveled back and forth again, her expression strange. "What, then? What happened?"

I had to speak up. "Honey, it's true. We didn't have intercourse, but we did have sex." It was as much as I could say right then. Penny picked up the ball and said the only thing that could have forestalled the storm.

"Mom! You were fucking Frank before you and Dad were divorced. I don't think you should throw stones." It acted like a cold splash of water on my wife. She blinked then seemed to collapse in upon herself. She broke down sobbing, her hands covering her eyes. Both Penny and I wrapped her in our arms and -- in spite of her attempt to resist -- held her until she caught her breath.

"Tell me," Cherie's voice was dull. She wanted to know what we'd done. So we told her. We told her everything. She didn't look at either of us then, nor at anything else. I think she was picturing the scenes in her mind.

I doubt I could have carried it off by myself. With Penny's help, her words to her mother, we made her see. Many times since Penny became part of our life Cherie has told me how much Penny had come to love me. She knew, too, that I had developed a love for Penny. Penny explained that it was only out of love that we'd done what we did. There was lust, as well, yes, but love was uppermost. I believe that the fact that we stopped short of fucking convinced her that we had, in fact, not just had sex, but that we had made love.

In the end, Cherie allowed herself to lean into my arms and cry again. When she raised her head she surprised me by kissing me -- hard -- on the lips. It was a lover's kiss; a wife's kiss. She blew her nose until it was clear, then she took Penny's hand and mine. After a deep breath she said, "Okay. I guess I knew it would happen." She looked at me, then almost smiled. "You should have fucked her, so she knows what a man is really like. Then, I suppose there is time enough for that before she leaves for college." She added, "When she does leave, that will be the end of it, is that clear?" I nodded my head. I couldn't have spoken if I'd tried. My wife was giving her stamp of approval on my affair with her daughter!

Just like that, Cherie had overcome her anger and the hurt she'd felt. Nearly. It took some doing over the next four months to make sure I didn't slight my wife's feelings. I had to make sure she was every bit as desirable as she had been before I tasted the delights of Penny's youthful lovemaking. Somehow I managed, though I lost twelve pounds doing it. Cherie took to claiming to close friends that I'd fucked off the weight, though she didn't say that it wasn't just her I'd been fucking.

It was a couple of days after that first time that Penny and I did fuck. She was as tight as I'd imagined. She had thought she knew all about sex until I made love to her. The boys she'd had before were, as is usually the case, the quick fire type, but they could go again after only fifteen minutes or so. At my age, I am slow to reach orgasm, but it takes me a little longer to recover than it did when I was younger. It's an important difference. Penny's cries when she reached orgasm over and over again while I was inside her were music to my ears.

All that took place ten years ago. Cherie died last year. Penny and her family live back east, where she grew up. I'm by myself here in the same house we three filled with love. I don't know if Penny has told anybody the truth or not. She and I have never even talked about it, even though we talk on the phone at least once a week. I have never told anybody, either, until now.

I was deeply in love with Cherie, and she with me. I love Penny, but I was never "in love" with her. If you know the difference, then you have understand my story.