My Ex-Stepmother Barges In

About: This is a work of erotica. It includes "taboo" sex with an ex-stepmother. Not exactly incest, but still a little taboo. If not your thing, don't read.

Life is a little complicated when you live in a rented house, owned by your ex-stepmother. Your ex-stepmother, who doesn't respect boundaries the way most ex-stepmothers do. Your ex-stepmother, who occasionally barges right into your home, even into your bedroom and bathroom while you're in the shower, as if she owns the place.

Fortunately, we had always gotten along well. Faith was only five years older than me, as my father's second trophy wife (my dad got around!), and even though I resented my father for the way he left my mother for another woman, then subsequently left that woman for Faith, then later on left Faith for yet another woman, I had no reason to hold any of it against her. My dad had a charm that could hide his true colors for long enough to get women to marry him, apparently. In moments of introspection, I sometimes jokingly wished he had taught me some of his charm, but he never did.

Thankfully, Faith didn't seem too damaged from the encounter. And I had to admit, the hugs were nice. I didn't read too much into them, even if I had to admit that the way she seemed to intentionally press her boobs against me during hugs made me tingle.

When I first moved into her rental, we didn't even bother with a lease or paperwork, just an understanding that she needed a very patient tenant while the ramshackle old investment property she bought went through a lengthy series of repairs. She wasn't so independently wealthy to do all the repairs at one time, she partly needed my rent money to pay for some of the repairs gradually. It was understood that I would let her come by anytime to do some of the repairs herself, that I would help, and finally, that I would also be flexible whenever actually qualified repairmen needed to come and do some of the more involved repairs. So, the low rent came with some sacrifices, including dealing with the tarp over the back part of the roof, the air-conditioner that couldn't cool the house properly during the hottest part of the summer day, and the dripping faucets in the kitchen, both bathrooms, and the outside spigots that required me to turn the water off at the outside master valve when I wasn't home and wasn't using the water.

It wasn't all bad though. During her frequent visits and barges, she tended to always be fun to look at. Leggings and T-Shirts. Shorts and Tank tops. On one particularly nice day, shorts and just a bikini top while we were up on the roof. And my favorite, Summer Dresses. All easy on the eyes, and all offering occasional eyefuls, since the things she worked on often involved crawling around on the floor, under a sink, or up a ladder. I tried hard, not to look like I was looking, but my opportunities for up-skirt, down-blouse, side-boob, and nipples poking through her tank top were frequent enough to make the old house all worth it. A few weeks into it, underwear vanished too, so I had gotten a couple peeks at her completely exposed and deliciously bald pussy too.

Somewhere in that same period though, came the somewhat messy divorce from my father, mostly his fault (even if she married him anyway, when he left my mom for her). We had a chat, and she agreed no hard feelings, I could stay anyway.

In addition to the barges in for home repairs though, there were other times that didn't seem to have a particularly good excuse to barge in. At times it even seemed like she was trying to sneak a peek at me, since her barging in included times when I was still in bed, or even in the bathroom showering. More than once I had to hurriedly put something on, or jump back in bed naked, and talk to her as she discussed the agenda for that day's repairs, me lying in bed completely naked under the sheets as she sat next to the bed, or occasionally if she was angry about something, pacing back and forth, sexily.

After the divorce though, something new developed. She started coming over more frequently, seemingly just to talk. I didn't mind, but the visits ended up including more late evenings or early mornings too. I liked the evenings because she was either casually bordering on being underdressed or dressed very nicely. And I liked the mornings because she was often in her post-gym outfits, which were also always inspiring to the imagination.

One early morning, I was fixing my hair after showering, just in my boxer briefs, when I heard her come in. I decided to act nonchalant, as if nothing were going on, and chitchat with her, without putting my pants on. This was at exactly 7:25 a.m., and I normally would have been ready to leave for work by about 7:40, if I hadn't been interrupted. I knew my schedule was flexible, so I continued the chat. Nothing much happened, but I spent the entire time in my boxer briefs, mostly leaning against the bathroom counter.

The next day, the same thing happened. Again, she barged on in at almost the exact same time, meaning I was in my boxer briefs again. We chatted, which disrupted the routine a bit, but I didn't mind. I work a lot of hours, so I have the freedom to arrange my own schedule. Plus, I enjoyed being in my underwear around her. It was a new dynamic, and I was intrigued by the possibilities.

On the third day, I decided that I was in my own home, the door was closed, and if she barged in, there would be no guarantee that I'd be decent. I made sure I was all cleaned up well before 7:25, but I also decided that this time, I would be completely naked if she barged in. As luck would have it, she didn't pop in that day. Nor the next. In fact, even though I planned ahead to be naked at 7:25 each morning, nothing happened, nothing at all. She still barged in at other times for the repair work, but not at the time coinciding with my morning routine.

Enough time passed that I returned to my normal routine, but one Friday morning, I heard the front door open. I hurriedly jumped out of my boxer briefs and tossed them in the hamper. I was completely naked when she walked into the master bathroom, with me standing there and trying my best to act as if nothing unusual was taking place as I wrapped up shaving and brushing my hair.

On this day, she had gone to the gym early and was in her typical post-gym outfit. She'd have showered at the gym, so her hair would be wet, and she'd be wearing her fancy sports watch, denim skirt, T-Shirt, and platform flip-flops, showing off her sexy feet. I couldn't tell whether she really felt as if it was no big deal that I was naked, or if she was trying to act nonchalant too, but we proceeded to have one of our chats as if nothing unusual was taking place. Nothing other than seeing me completely naked for more than a fleeting moment for the first time.

"Want some coffee?" I asked. She nodded, so I walked to the kitchen, still naked, and she followed. With her behind me, I couldn't tell whether she was looking or not the whole time. For the brief moment walking past the wet bar, I caught a glimpse of her in the mirror, and she was looking at least for that moment.

I knew there was a cup or more ready to go in the coffee maker, but I wanted this to take longer, so I made up a story that it wasn't that fresh, so that I'd better make a new batch. The layout of the kitchen had barstools on the far side of the island, facing the other side of the kitchen where the sink, refrigerator, and coffee maker were. I had an audience, as I proceeded to go through the process of dumping out the old coffee, getting the coffee can, and the filter, scooping the coffee into the filter, pouring water, and waiting. The whole time, we continued to talk about mostly nothing at all, during the coffee-making phase, me still naked, managing to keep myself distracted enough to not get an erection. Finally, the coffee finished brewing. I stood on the other side of the island to drink mine, while she continued to sit on the barstool drinking hers.

"How was the gym?" I knew that she did a little weight work, but mostly spent time on the elliptical. Her divine ass was proof of that.

"Good. 60 minutes on the elliptical!"

"Wow. Don't you usually just do 30?"

"Yeah, but I'm trying to tone up. My ass is too flabby."

Two things. Her ass was most definitely not too flabby, and she had an unfortunate tendency to be overly sensitive about her body image. "You are absolutely insane. Your ass is absolutely perfect. If you want permission to maintain it, I'll allow it. But remember. Perfect."

"Well, thanks. You always make me feel better about myself."

I was glad to hear she took what I said to heart. Actually, it was rare for anything I said to be listened to. I was elated. "Your ass is fine, firm, and free from flab. "Don't change a thing," I said, perhaps too enthusiastically. The only problem is that this conversation about her ass was making me stir. And I was naked, having done so well keeping an erection at bay. But discussing her ass was a new challenge.

"Well, there definitely IS some flab though," she said, looking down at her hip and reaching down to grab a handful of her own ass momentarily, just to make a point. I leaned over to look, pretending it was just me paying attention to her gesture, but it was nice seeing her grab her own ass through her skirt.

"You're insane," I replied. I decided to lean forward, forearms on the countertop, which would keep my continually growing penis out of sight. I was enjoying being naked but needed to proceed with caution.

"Face it. We're getting old," she said. At the gym, there's this twenty-something year-old young thing, she lifts more than me, goes faster and longer on the elliptical than me, and has rock-hard abs. Ticks me off!"

"You're one of the most beautiful women on the planet. Just because other girls are pretty too doesn't mean you're any less gorgeous." I hoped I wasn't going overboard on the flattery, but I really did at times worry about how hard she was on herself.

"She had a six-pack. Look at my abs. No six-pack here." she said, standing up and pulling her T-shirt up just above her navel. "Flab," she stated flatly, although there really was no flab whatsoever. While her T-shirt was raised, I noticed that the waistband of the denim skirt was draped rather low on her hips. Low enough to see hipbone, and low enough to surmise there probably were no panties on. I knew this already, from years of occasionally hearing comments about underwear, but it was a treat. I certainly didn't see her hipbone and T-shirt raised above her navel every day.

"That's not flab, you dummy! You have an amazing flat stomach. You're twice her age. You look amazing."

"Well, she was showering afterward, same time as me, so I also saw her naked. She was amazing. You should have been there. Oh my god, I don't even like women, and I wanted to do her. Her ass was amazing, her boobs were so perky, and even her pussy lips were perfect. Then after the shower back by the lockers, I walked right past her while she was bent over drying off her legs. No hair, and her asshole was bleached too. I've never seen one up close like that. It made me understand why you men are always wanting to stick their tongue in my little bleached asshole, it looked so good."

I nodded in wistful agreement, somehow without acknowledging what she said about her ass being bleached. I still didn't quite keep my mouth shut, though, saying "Hey, if I'd have been there with the two of you in the shower, it would have been YOU I'd be staring at." Then I realized, perhaps I had said too much, so I tried to turn it into a joke. "I mean, while you're doing one another." I smiled.

"Ha!" she laughed. "Actually, she was gorgeous. If I was going to do a girl, she'd need to look like that girl did. But I'm a penis kind of girl. Sorry, hate to ruin your daydreams!"

"Damn!" I feigned a sad face. I was going to make a joke about being glad she liked penises, but I decided against it. Unfortunately for my attempt at acting as if nothing was going on, I was now completely erect. I could tell a droplet of pre-cum was making its way out, and I knew with this level of hardness, it would be turning into a long stretchy string of pre-cum dangling from my penis in less than a minute. I was trapped, with no way out. All I could do was try to keep myself tucked in. I suspected she had seen something when she stood up, but I was leaning forward, so at least when she was sitting, I could tell she didn't have an angle to see my erection.

"You do make me laugh though. Just like your dad. that was his secret power over us women."

"Dammit. He never taught me that!"

"You have his sense of humor. You need to use it more on the ladies! I see you struggling, not being yourself. The keys to the kingdom are making us laugh!"

"A blonde walks into a bar. She says, 'Ouch!'" I quipped.

"More coffee please!" she said, shaking her now empty coffee mug at me, jokingly and plainly letting me know my joke was not good enough.

I suppose in exchange for all my complaining, I should acknowledge her good traits. She was always very funny and witty, with a bit of a mischievous side too. Clearly, she knew I had an erection, and she was forcing me to come out from my hiding position.

"Oh, OK. I, um, Ok." I hesitated. "Slide the mug across the island to me?" I was scrambling to find a way out of this. Perhaps I could turn around quickly, and she might not notice? I guess I got myself into this situation, nobody to blame but myself.

"Is something the matter?" she asked, feigning innocence.

"No, no, nothing's wrong," I replied. I was still trying to hide behind the island.

She didn't slide the mug across the counter. She kept it in her hand, suspended up above the counter, as if waiting for me to come and get it from her. "Ok, good. I hope I didn't bother you? I was just mentioning that when that girl and I were both naked in the showers, that I was checking her out and admiring her body. Her glistening naked body, her hands running all over it with soapy bubbles. Not a problem, right?"

"No, no, nothing's wrong," I repeated.

"And then all I did, was for pretty much the first time ever, wonder what it would be like to kiss a girl. That's all." she continued. "And it turned me on. That didn't bother you, did it?"

"Oh, I know. I'm a boy, I'm obligated to like hearing things like that."

"And then, all I was doing was wondering what it would be like to finger her until she had an orgasm." By now I knew she was deliberately teasing me. And if my cock wasn't as hard as it could possibly get already, it certainly was now.

"And then all I was thinking, was what my fingers would taste like after I pulled them out of her." She raised her fingers and ran them lengthwise under her nostrils. "Mmm... All I was doing was imagining. I hope that wasn't a problem?"

"Not a problem at all," I said. I was still leaning over the counter, trying to hide my erection, but I was quite sure she had seen it. I wasn't sure though, and I was still trying to figure out what to make of the situation.

"And then, when I started thinking about her fingering me, I got all wet. Really wet. My pussy got wet, thinking about another girl's pussy. You're sure that doesn't bother you?" She was torturing me and loving every minute of it.

"No, no, not at all." God, I was hard.

"And now, all this talk about it. I'm getting wet again, just thinking about it. About her." My angle prevented a clear view, but from across the island and over the counter, I saw her reach with her hand, and I could tell by her hand and shoulder movement, but also the unmistakable sound of rustling fabric, that she had reached inside her denim skirt. "Yep, wet." She said flatly and held up her two fingers toward the light so I could see them glistening with her juices. "You're SURE you're not bothered by all this?"

"Oh, I'm ... umm... sure." I managed to get out, I said, watching in shock as she popped her wet fingers into her mouth, and then slowly extracted the fingers while closing her lips tightly around each finger. She reached down again, and I could see her forearm pulsating, as obviously she was thrusting and pumping her fingers into her pussy, probably about ten thrusts in a row. Up again, she held her fingers up toward the light, spread them apart, and then popped them one at a time into her mouth, her middle finger first, then her index finger.

"I know my pussy tastes great; everybody tells me that. But hers probably tastes better than mine does. That bitch!" She joked. "I wish I could lick HER pussy juice off of my finger."

"I know the feeling," I said wistfully. "I'd still choose yours though." I decided to offer another compliment. She mostly ignored it.

"Umm. Did you forget? Coffee? Hello, I can't wait all day." She stood up again, out of her stool, and was reaching over the island handing me the mug, but intentionally holding it high up in the air, so there was no way I could get it from her without also standing up properly. All I could do was chuckle.

"God, you're such a bitch!" I chuckled, knowing I was busted. I stood straight up and proudly revealed to her my full erection. She looked. She definitely looked straight at it. "Just you wait, I'm going to NOT put enough sugar in your damn coffee." I took the mug from her, walked to the coffee maker, and poured her new cup, then got the creamer out of the fridge, added the sugar, and walked around the island to hand it to her. No more hiding my erection, and I had to admit, I was proud of how hard I still get.

"Thanks." After a pause, she shook the mug at me again. "More cream, please." She smiled an evil smile. She was being playful, but at the same time, her face seemed flushed. Perhaps this also meant she was excited, enjoying it.

"Oh god, you're a pain in the ass! Fine!" I joked and brought the cream over. Except now there was a glistening bulb of pre-cum flowing halfway down my penis. She looked directly at it, making no pretenses about it.

My next thought though, was a stroke of genius. "I suppose I have to put it in and stir it too?" I said, not waiting for an answer. I stood right next to her, slightly sideways. My erect penis brushed against her muscular thigh muscles, and the droplet of my pre-cum smeared against her.

She didn't say anything, but I saw her inhale sharply. Then just as quickly, she regained her composure. "Except now there's too much creamer. I'm not drinking this!" she said mischievously, acting as if my erect penis hadn't just touched her.

"That's it! Stand up!" I said, acting jokingly as if I was angry. She stood up, but given our previous positioning, she was quite close to me.

She hesitated for a fraction of a second, then stood up.

"Raise your arms up in the air," I commanded. She raised her arms up in the air.

"Keep still." I reached forward, took the bottom of her T-Shirt, and tugged it up off and over her head. I knew she didn't have on a bra, and her perky breasts were as magnificent as I had imagined. I had actually caught minor glances down her blouse a time or two, but obviously, this was my first full direct view of them.

"Turn around." She turned around, her back now toward me.

"Lean your arm on the barstool." She leaned her elbows on the barstool for balance while leaning forward. I took one ankle in my arm and tugged her flip-flop off with the other. Then I took her other ankle and tugged off the other shoe.

"Don't move," I said. She didn't move, as I reached up to the button on the back of her denim skirt and undid it. I reached in through to the zipper, and pulled it down, then pulled her entire skirt down. No panties! I was staring at her fabulous ass for the first time.