Mom's New Boyfriend Ch. 02

"Oh, God," I said, rolling my head back as I continued to touch myself, smiling widely and madly with my eyes closed, taking in another deep breath of that cologne. I pulled the curtains closed as I slumped down on the swivel chair I used to attend my virtual Gender Studies course every day.

Jessie was a virgin, of course. I'm sure Michael would find that hot. Deflowering my sweet little sister, a woman with a petite, small frame. I bet he'd want to be her one and only. But with me, he'd like that I've slept around. He would love the spell he's put over me, making me so hot for him that I'd never sleep around again despite knowing what's out there.

"Fuck."

I'm under no illusion; I'm hot. Men want me. I've seen them, checking out my ass and my breasts. I'm very fortunate in the looks department and I could have anyone I want, often to the point of detriment. My Instagram DMs are like a testosterone bombsite. But Michael knows he's the only one I want. He's the only one that can bring me to rapture, the only one who can tell me what to do, the only one to make the earth shake and move and crumble beneath my feet.

"Yes!" I screamed, lost in the throes of my fantasy, cumming again, my sweat mixing with Michael's scent.

As I came down from my orgasm, I suddenly thought back to the thought of Michael having sex with my sister. My stomach turned. Had I really just masturbated to that? The thought disgusted me. She's my baby sister. I need to protect her from the world and from men like Michael, as much as the thought of him drove me insane. And I had just let him drive her to college. I knew the effect he had on women and, if he could bring a woman with experience like me mad with lust, I began to fear what effect he would have on someone as innocent as Jessie.

Jessie

Usually, I was a model student. Usually, I'd be taking notes and condensing them into easy to understand revision cards for my exams. Usually, I wouldn't be thinking about a man during class.

But, today, I couldn't help it. Dad was going to teach me everything he knew about sex when he picked me up from college and I was excited. Very excited. It was all I could think about.

Just looking at my Dad, you can tell he has had a lot of experience. Women must be dying at their feet to have sex with him. He held my hand the same way he approached life -- determined, demanding, a real bad boy. If he holds hands the way he makes love, I definitely know why Mom has a thing for him. If he wasn't my Dad, maybe I'd have even let him have sex with me - if he asked. Or, I guess, if I didn't know him, if he came up to me in the street and asked me out on a date. Obviously, he wasn't really my Dad, so thinking about his sex life wasn't weird. It was just a fantasy, like those Twilight fan-fics I read when I was younger.

"So if everyone could turn to page four..." the professor said. I used to have a really big crush on my professor. She was a taller, older woman. I think I have a thing for older people. Like Dad.

Why did my thoughts direct to him? After all that sex talk earlier, I think I've just gotten a bit riled up. If one of my nerd friends could work up the courage to ask me out, I'd probably do things with them. Not go the full way, of course. I was reserving that for someone really special, someone really manly. Someone who could take me, the way Dad took my hand earlier.

"Psst", someone next to me whispered. I turned. It was George, one of my best friends, "You okay there?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I mean you're, uh, drooling a bit."

I moved my hand up to my mouth and, sure enough, I was. A little bit of saliva was tracing down my bottom lip onto my chin. I wiped it away, embarrassed, trying to hide my rosy cheeks, the rosy cheeks that I could currently see reflecting in George's big square glasses.

"Sorry," I said, "I didn't get a lot of sleep last night."

"Ah, no worries. I guess you're too tired to come over to mine tonight?"

"Uh, yeah, sorry. I would but I'm doing something tonight."

Usually, I'd have accepted George's offer. Usually, I would have been excited by the prospect of watching some nerdy, esoteric film that George would have lying around on DVD for some reason. Usually, if I wasn't able to go over to George's, I'd have told him why.

But today, I didn't want to. It felt almost like a secret, Michael teaching me about sex, a little secret between a Dad and his daughter. I also didn't want to explain to George that a new man had appeared onto the scene and that I was calling him Dad. He wouldn't understand. He'd probably get jealous. I know what boys are like. They're all, "Let's just be friends," before hitting you with, "I've always been in love with you." Sadly, I could see that happening with George. Lovely, helpless George. But I wasn't attracted to him. I wasn't even sure who I was attracted to before I met Michael. Now, it was clear. Older. Confident. A bit of an asshole. And George, bless him, was one of life's nice men. The men society told women we should like.

"-and I'll see you all next week!", the professor finished.

Everyone started to collect their bags and leave the lecture room. I saw the clock and realised the school day was over. I smiled.

As I looked out from the college entrance, my heart fluttered. Dad was parked where he had dropped me off this morning, smoking out the window. I ran to the car, ignoring George as he shouted, "See you next week!" I almost felt pathetic, thinking about how the thought of being with Michael had replaced everything else that excited me about life. George's respect and obvious shyness around asking me out made me cringe and I pretended to not hear him so I didn't have to feel anymore awkward about it. If George really wanted me, he should pick me up from college like Michael. He shouldn't even just offer. He should just do it, grab my hands and force me into the car.

"Hey, Dad," I said, getting into the car.

"Hey, baby."

It had only been a few hours but I had forgotten how deep his voice was. It was so reassuring. He started the ignition of the car and drove off.

Butterflies were swirling around in my tummy. How was he going to teach me about sex? Diagrams? Educational videos? Examples from his life?

For some reason, that latter option was the most appealing. I wanted to know how he had sex. I wanted to learn everything about him, what he liked, what got him off. If I wanted to lose my virginity to someone like Dad, I would need to know what someone like my Dad would like. I took a deep breath as I looked over at him. His beer belly extended all the way to the steering wheel. I have no idea why, what environmental factor or random piece of brain-circuitry compelled me to this desire, but I knew Michael was the kind of man I wanted inside me. A deep, hollow need permeated my body.

"Dad...?"

"Yes?"

"Can you... tell me where you got that cologne from? I really... I really like it."

"Later, baby. But it's time for your first lesson."

I looked forward. Dad had driven us off the main road, under a bridge in the darkness, hidden from main view in some grassy crevice somewhere on the way back home.

"Where... where are we?" I asked, fearful but excited.

"We need some privacy," Dad said, "Away from your bitch sister."

I turned to him and scowled.

"You... you can't say that," I said, unable to work up the courage to shout. We were here, alone, in his car and, looking at him, I knew he could fight back.

Fuck, why was this getting me horny? I could feel a wetness growing downstairs. If Dad wanted to, he could put me in my place for speaking out of turn. Punish me.

"Ouch!" I yapped as he grabbed my neck.

"Don't talk back to me, baby," he said, "I like you more than her but you're still my girl, and I can say what I want about her."

Any anger that I could hold onto vanished as I pushed my chest out, instinctively drawing towards him as if I were prey giving myself over to a predator. Before, I could rationalise the wetness between my legs, my growing emptiness, my need to be touched and pushed around by him. But now, his hands on my neck, him telling me what do to -- I couldn't deny it anymore. I really wanted Michael.

"I'm... sorry, dad," was all I could muster. Usually, I wouldn't let anyone talk about my sister like that. Usually, I wouldn't be okay with a man driving me to an enclave somewhere to threaten me. Usually, I'd have run out, kicking and screaming and asking for help. But the pressure building up in my clit did all the talking for me. He let go of my neck but I kept my chest out. I wanted to show him every part of me, just in case he felt the need to put me in my place again.

"Good girl."

Fuck. I let out a groan. I saw him smirk as if he knew, as if he knew that I would allow him to do anything he wanted to me. Except for sex. That would be too far.

"It's time to begin your first lesson," Dad said, getting out his phone and opening up Safari. He had a tab saved on there with a paused video. I could make out the title -- 'Step dad fucks his little girl'. He pressed play.

"Yes, fuck me, Daddy!" the girl screamed as an older man with a big penis started to have sex with her doggy style, "Harder, please!"

My mouth was wide open as I watched.

"Are you enjoying it, baby?" Dad asked.

I turned to him. He was unbuckling his belt.

"I... I don't... I don't know, Dad, this is..."

"Tell me the truth," he said, putting his hands down his trousers.

"I mean... this is... this is turning me on, a bit, but, I don't know, this seems wrong..."

"First lesson," he said, pulling his hand out, holding something, "If it feels good, it's not wrong."

I looked down. Dad was pulling out his cock, his whole hand around it. Fuck me, he was big. Bigger, even, than the man in the video. My body set alight. I had never felt like this before. This wasn't just a crush. I wanted to see him play with himself as he watched this video. I wanted to see how it looked.

"Are you getting excited, baby?" he said, jerking himself off. He could see the look on my face, my desperate eyes, my licking lips, my flushed face.

"Jesus," I said, letting it out like a groan, "You're... you're really big."

"Second lesson," he said, as the girl in the video continued to scream, overwhelmed, "Don't ever listen to anyone who tells you size doesn't matter. Nobody with a small cock will ever satisfy you, baby."

Susan had always told me the opposite. She told me that it was more about the 'motion of the ocean'. I don't know how true that was for other women but I couldn't help but agree with Dad. I couldn't imagine letting a guy fuck me if he didn't have a big cock like him.

Michael stuck out his thumb, putting in my mouth.

"Are you getting wet?"

I whimpered, slurring my words on purpose so I didn't have to admit it to myself.

"Do you want me?"

"Yes," I said, suckling on his thumb.

"I'm thinking about you," he said, "I'm imagining you're the girl in this video."

"Jesus," I said, my whole body throbbing. He grabbed my hair and pulled me towards him.

"We're going to do this every day after school," he said, tightening his grip and wanking even faster, "Do you want that?"

"Yes!" I shouted, loving how badly it hurt when he pulled my hair, my left hand grabbing onto his wrist to hold balance and my right hand grabbing my boob under my shirt, "Please, Dad, I want it so bad!"

"I own you-"

"You own me!"

"-you're my little slut on the side-"

"I'm your little slut on the side!"

"-you'll let me do this every day-"

"Every day, fuck, every day!"

"-anywhere I want-"

"Oh, fuck, God, I'm-"

"-you'll think about this when you touch yourself tonight-"

"Dad, please, I can't-"

"-you're submissive-"

"Fuck, daddy, please, I can't hold on, I think I'm going to-"

"-my sweet, little girl."

"Can I cum, daddy?! Please, please give me permission, I'm going to-"

"Cum for me."

My whole body exploded as I screamed in the passenger seat, my pussy clamping down. In those few, blissful seconds, my heart pounding out of my chest and my voice hoarse with lust, I was willing, completely, to give myself over to him. To let him use me, use my body, to make himself feel good. He was everything I ever wanted. He had made me cum without me even needing to touch me. Just the thought of him. I was squirming as he came himself, hot white cum spurting from his cock. He let go of my hair and pushed me back, resting, panting, against the door. The video had ended.

"Good girl," he said again. The fire in my stomach returned again and my legs weakened.

Usually, I'd have found the thought of a man wanking in front of me, calling me a "good girl", demeaning. Usually, I'd have found a situation like this, me cumming to the thought of an older man using me for their depraved sexual fantasies (least of all my Dad) disgusting, revolting, fucked-up; not romantic, sexually fulfilling, exciting, naughty.

But today, I didn't.