I Don’t Like My Stepdad

My real dad died when I was young, and I have only a faint memory of someone when I was very young. Mom met my future stepdad, Marten, when I was thirteen. I instantly disliked him since I felt he threatened what Mom and I had together. Looking back, I must have been rather obnoxious. Yet, Marten was a nice guy, and he was very patient, and slowly, as time passed, he got me to accept him.

Mom married him when I was fifteen, and there was a new low when he moved in to live with us. By then, I had discovered a woman's powers over a man. I could tell he was not unaffected by how I looked. I could, for example, make a scene in the kitchen dressed only in a bra and skimpy panties. He tried to hide it, but I could tell he had checked me out when he thought I was not looking. I was on the school's gymnastics team and had a great athletic body with all the right curves, and I knew I was good-looking.

But Marten managed to win me over again. However, there remained a slight tension and guarded awareness between us.

Marten and I have the same birthday by coincidence. It was in July, right at the peak of the vacation period. While growing up, we both accepted that very few friends were around to celebrate with us. So, Mom and Marten decided we were going for a mini vacation by the ocean as a celebration. It was my nineteenth and his forty-sixth birthday.

The idea was to spend a few lazy days at the beach, get a suntan, and live comfortably in a large luxury hotel. But we received terrible news on the evening of the first day. My grandmother had become gravely ill and had been taken to the hospital. It was decided that my mother would go home the following day, even if it were our birthdays. We had planned to stay two more nights after that.

The following day, my mother left early. Marten and I were left alone at the hotel. There was a distinct tension as we were at the beach. I didn't want to admit that I was affected by being so close to him in such an intimate environment. I followed him to his suite in the afternoon instead of going to my room. There were flowers and a bottle of Champagne waiting in the room. Later, we learned it was a surprise my mother had ordered already while booking the hotel. Since it was our birthday, we had a glass of Champagne, which increased the tension.

Afterward, I went to my room to change for dinner. I had brought a lovely evening dress, as we had intended to have a fancy dinner. I could tell Marten checked me out when we met in the lobby. He was looking sharp, with a nice shirt and slacks. The restaurant was cozy, with a band playing soft music. Marten surprised me when he ordered wine for the two of us. The atmosphere was very relaxed, and no one fussed about me being too young for wine. Again, I did not want to admit it, but the fact that it was our birthday celebration made me feel we had a special moment together. I got the impression that Marten shared the same feeling.

After eating, we danced to a couple of songs before leaving. We were both surprised when I answered yes when he asked me for a dance. We danced close together to the slow music. He tried to keep his distance, but I could tell he had an erection.

When he moved in with Mom and me, I had managed many times to give him an erection when I made my dramas. I often wore only lingerie while acting out, and he had struggled to hide his boner from Mom and me. I had this gleeful feeling that I had somehow made a score.

I followed him to his suite, where we had the last Champagne. I could not help myself from playing out the tricks I had learned that turned him on. I felt encouraged when he got an erection while we danced. I was getting to him and thought it was fun. One thing led to another where I teased him increasingly. Fueled by my success, I became more provocative.

We had sex on the couch. I felt bewildered afterward. He also looked very unsure about how we should handle the situation. It had been such a power rush seeing how I got to him while teasing and how turned on he had become. I do not know if it was the environment, the wine, our shared birthday, or something else. Neither he nor I had been able to put on the brakes. Not even when we got past the point of being innocent - we were making out and pulling off each other's clothes.

It did not improve when we moved over to the king-size bed. Instead of talking about what had happened, we had sex a second time and fell asleep together.

I freaked out in the morning when we were woken up by the phone, and it was my mother calling. I managed to be quiet, and Marten kept his cool while talking to Mom. She spoke of Grandma. Her condition was severe but not life-threatening, as they had feared the day before.

I was hungover, and guilty feelings welled up in me as I felt I had betrayed Mom. It did not improve when I had to be naked in front of Marten. Our clothes were scattered around the couch at the other end of the room. I felt very self-conscious about having to walk naked into the bathroom. Exiting again, I still felt very self-conscious when collecting my stuff and putting them on. I could feel Marten's eyes follow me. It did not become better when he went naked into the bathroom. He had a raging erection from watching me getting dressed.

I went to my room to change, and we met again for breakfast. While eating, we began talking about what we had done. We both regretted it and felt it was wrong against Mom. We spoke more on the beach and agreed it could never happen again. But I could feel how the calm and relaxed environment was affecting us again as it had the day before. I caught him looking at me repeatedly as I lay in my bikini next to him. He caught me several times checking out his trunks to see if he had an erection.

At lunch, we went back to the hotel to eat, and after we were done - I do not know why - we went to his suite. We fucked like two rabbits in heat. It was among the most intense sex I have ever had. Usually, I am not vocal, but I was screaming at the peak.

Afterward, I felt guilty again when we put on our beach clothes and went to the ocean. This time, we should have talked about what we had done. I could tell he was thinking about it as much as I was, but he did not say anything. We returned to the hotel in the afternoon, and I went to my room to shower and change for dinner. I tried to call Mom, but there was no answer at home. She was probably at the hospital. Part of me felt relieved she did not answer, as I felt very guilty.

We ate in the same restaurant as the evening before but did not have wine. We talked a lot during dinner but avoided discussing what we had done. We danced again, and he got an erection. He did not hold back this time. As we moved to the music, I shamelessly pressed my mound against the hard lump. We were quiet when we left the restaurant. We took the elevator in the lobby, and he pressed the button for his floor. My room was two floors higher, and I did not comment when he did not press my button.

We started kissing as soon as the door to his suite closed behind us. It was more intense than the evening before. It was heated sex without talking. It was after 2 AM when we finally fell asleep.

I had never spent the night with a man until that night. This time, I was not woken up by my mother calling but instead from having my boobs kissed. I discovered that morning sex was nice, soft, and sweet, unlike the night before, when it had been hot and nasty.

Later, on the beach, we talked about what we had done and that we had to stop. We agreed that the sex had been terrific, but he was married to my mom, and it was not right that we went behind her back. However, it did not prevent us from coupling in the afternoon before leaving for the airport. I had come with my suitcase to his room. He took one look at me, dressed in a short, sexy summer dress and high-heel strappy sandals and sunglasses in my hair. He pushed me down on the couch. I had hardly time to pull the crotch of my panties to the side before he was inside me.

It felt dreamlike when we were sitting in a taxi on the way to the airport less than ten minutes after we were done. My heart rate was still elevated. I could still feel his strong hands around my ankles when he had kept them over my shoulders and pounded my pussy. He had discovered that I am very flexible and liked how he could fold me in two.

On the airplane, we both agreed it would never happen again and that we should keep it a secret from Mom. It felt weird since he had not given me time to go to the bathroom. My panties were sticky, and I still felt so much of him inside me.

But something had changed between us. After a few days at home, I knew we would not be able to return to how it used to be. There had always been tension between Marten and me. After some soul-searching, I realized it had been, most of all, a sexual tension. He is twenty-seven years older than me, but I was attracted to him anyway. He seemed to be as attracted to me as well.

I was not a virgin when we had sex in the hotel. I had been having sex with three different guys before. However, I had only had two boyfriends. Andrew, my second boyfriend, had a best friend, Stephen. He was the third guy I had sex with. Andrew talked me into having sex with Stephen while he was watching us. I had been very hesitant, but then agreed. It had not been bad at all, and all three of us had been extremely excited.

However, it started to deteriorate after we did this for a while. Andrew wanted to have sex with me right after I was done with Stephen. The roles reversed, and Stephen was watching me with Andrew. Having sex with two guys made me hot as hell. But afterward, I usually felt worn out, and my pussy ached. I would also feel guilty that I was a real slut. Stephen introduced me to anal sex, which was so nasty and hot. After some time, we got to the point where they wanted to fuck me simultaneously. They wanted to sandwich me like in porno movies.

Then I started to balk and felt it was too much. My pussy is tight, and also my ass. Both guys had rather big cocks. I was afraid it was going to be very painful. The second reason was that I felt it was getting out of control. I let them fuck me at the same time but only doggy style, with one in my pussy or ass and the other in my mouth. It was great sex. Being caressed by four hands feels twice as good as two. But after each time, I increasingly felt they had used me.

Andrew's parents worked day and night, including most weekends, in the IT business. Since the house usually was empty, the three of us would go to his place after school every day. Rarely did we do anything else than have sex all the time. I could be naked from morning until evening in his room on the weekends. They would be with me at the same time or take turns. I had sex with one; the other watched us, played computer games, or surfed the net. Sometimes, the one at the computer searched for weird positions, and we would try to copy. They had discovered how flexible I was from intense gymnastics. They could rarely find any position that was too difficult for me. Even the weirdest ones. There might have been another girl in school who had been fucked in the ass while doing a handstand. But I am sure no one else had been while having a second guy kneeling in front and getting a blowjob simultaneously.

We did this for about a school year. It deteriorated to the point where it was no big deal to have sex with Stephen, even if my boyfriend was not around. I even began going out on actual dates with him. After some time, I understood Stephen and Andrew had agreed to share me. They were taking turns with me, having quality time and exclusive sex. Finally, it was too much, and I broke up with both. I told them I did not want to have sex with them again, together or one at a time.

When Marten and I began having sex, he was surprised at how experienced I was, even though I was only nineteen. Also, I was not ashamed to show that I liked sex. I was rather orgasmic and was not shy about telling how I wanted it to get off. Another thing was that I am on the pill. I had had problems with difficult menstruation with painful cramps and excessive bleeding. When I started to have periods, I had to stay home and in bed for three or four days each month. It got better when a doctor put me on pills to ease my problems. I have been eating them ever since. When I got my first boyfriend, there were never any discussions about using a condom when he took my cherry.

Marten knew I had protection. After the first night in the hotel, he told me he had loved it. He used condoms with Mom and thought it was a pain and hassle. He said it was great to do it completely naturally with me. He felt good knowing there could not be any consequences when he came inside me.

Coming home and meeting Mom was a bit nervous, but at least I could look her in the eyes without feeling ashamed. Marten seemed to have similar feelings.

Somehow, we got back into our old routines. It was rather often that Marten and I were home alone. I had not paid attention to it previously. Mom worked in a clothing store in a mall. She had late evenings regularly, came home after ten at night, and sometimes worked on the weekends.

Marten and I were used to keeping separate rooms to avoid confrontations when Mom was not home. We were still doing it, but the reasons had changed. I sometimes caught Marten looking at me with a thoughtful expression when all three of us were at home. But I could not tell what he was thinking.

About three months went by without incident. One day I was alone with Marten, as I had often been. We were in the kitchen and argued about something. It was like many times before. I wore Brazilian panties and a tight tank top without a bra. He was standing in the doorway, and I was upset. Well, to be honest, I was more like throwing a tantrum. I was yelling and flailing about. I shoved roughly past him to leave. He responded by slapping my ass hard enough to sting. Anger welled in me, and I rounded on him and slapped him in the face. Not hard, but it was a distinct whack as my hand hit his chin.

His temper flared, and he slapped my boob hard enough to make me let out a short cry from the sudden pain. I was at him, and we scuffled in the doorway. Then I felt his erection against my thigh, and instead of trying to hurt him, I kissed him, and he kissed back. He started pulling on my tank top to free my boobs while my hand went into his sweatpants to find his hard cock.

He pushed me against the wall with a thud. My pussy was soaking wet when he entered me. We fucked hard, standing up, with me having my back against the unyielding wall. Our teeth clattered together as our tongues grappled. After a while, we changed, and he fucked me from behind against the kitchen counter until he came inside me.

Afterward, we went into the living room and sat on the couch. I felt all warm and soft as he was caressing me. I had put on my panties so that I did not leak sperm on the couch, but my top was still on the floor in the kitchen. He was still naked. I did not want to admit I had been upset with him earlier because I wanted him to have sex with me.

He peeled off my panties again and went down on me. Like my old boyfriend, he did not mind eating me when I was full of sperm. It was so kinky. We lay for a long, long while on the couch. I had my shapely thighs over his shoulders, and he was leisurely eating my pussy. Eventually, I turned around and sucked his cock and licked his balls. I even rimmed his asshole. He got hard again, turned around, and we had sex a second time. We did it soft and slow, and it felt good. He made me come twice, and I was completely satisfied afterward.

But it was hard a few hours later when Mom was home, and the three of us sat in the kitchen eating dinner. The day after, I got to be alone with Marten. We agreed we should not do it again and never tell Mom, as it would only hurt her.

A few weeks later, I woke up one Saturday morning and felt horny. I knew Mom was at work, but I did not know if Marten was at home. I was thirsty and felt very wicked, as I walked in the nude to the kitchen to get something to drink. Marten sat at the kitchen table. I ignored him and went to the refrigerator, buck naked. There was orange juice, and I drank straight from the bottle, then put it back and left again without a word. I went to the bathroom to pee and then back to bed again. Two minutes later, he was standing at my door. He had stripped naked and had an erection. Still, without saying anything to each other, I scooted over to make space for him in my bed.

It was the longest and the best time so far. Afterward, we snuggled and fell asleep for an hour. I woke up from a man making love to me. After we were finally satisfied, we went into the kitchen. He made a late lunch for us. It was a hot day, and we remained naked, feeling naughty. While eating, we both agreed this had to stop, even if we were still nude.

Again and again, we had sex. Usually, it was weeks between, but sometimes only days. After every time it happened, we said it had to be the last time. Sometimes, we even talked about it while still having sex. But there were so many conflicting emotions. It felt so good while we had sex.

Marten enjoyed it like crazy. He loved to do it bareback and be able to come inside me as much as he wanted. He also said that when it came to having a sexy body, there was no competition. I could tell the effect I could have on him if I wanted. The opposite was also true; he had a way of getting me going, and I was panting for more of whatever he did with me. Every time we started, we usually fucked two or three times before we had gotten enough of each other. For being so much older than me, he had incredible stamina.

But afterward, we were both feeling guilty toward Mom. Even if we felt bad, it scared me how easy it was for us to keep what we were doing a secret. There were never any close calls or things making Mom suspicious. Not even one time when she was changing the sheets in my bed. There were crusty spots of dried sperm on them, even on the pillowcase. Mom commented, and I got cold inside. Marten shrugged and said it looked like I had eaten yogurt in bed again. Mom giggled and said it was silly of her not to have realized it herself.

Ironically, Marten and I argued more than ever after we started having sex. If Mom were at home, she would step between and mediate. If she was not at home, it could get very heated. It came to blows more than once, but then we had heated sex. I understood that most of the time, it was because of sexual tension that we argued. It annoyed me that I still could not help myself, even if I could see things for what they were. Like when I heard Mom and Marten having sex in their room. Almost always, I would pick a fight at the first opportunity I got with Marten. I knew very well it would likely result in us having sex.

Usually, we had very rough and angry sex when we were fighting, but we both seemed to be turned on by it. We would spit, slap, pinch, and be generally degrading to each other. We would call each other names and tell how useless the other was and how we hated each other. He had gotten to know my body well and could force me to have orgasms. I would hate him for it. He would make fun of me and call me a randy bitch and a slut for cock. Likewise, if he came too fast, I would call him trigger-happy and unable to satisfy a real woman. I would taunt him for being useless as a man.

After having angry sex like that, we would do it a second time. Then we were gentle, caressed each other, and made out passionately while making love. It was unnerving how attuned we were to each other. He never said, but I was sure that he felt he had better sex with me than with Mom. Of course, I never told him that sex with him was way better than with any of my previous lovers.