My Step-mom Angela Pt. 01

Author's note: this story is a long, slow tease. It offers titillation over graphic sex. You'll find that in some of my other stories. Stay tuned for more episodes.

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I had been living with my father for a few years, just the two of us. It had been difficult and our relationship hadn't always been the best, though we did what we could. One beautiful day, he met and married Angela, a woman a few years his junior and she came to live in our house with us. I had just turned 18 and was your typical introverted teenager.

Emotionally speaking, Angela didn't exactly assert herself into the role of my new mom, but she was warm, affectionate and took good care of both of us. She was an excellent cook and I grew to adore her over time and it seemed as if she was fond of me too. But even though she managed the household while working full time, I never thought of her as my replacement mother.

Angela was a light skinned black lady with long wavy black hair, about 5'8" tall with fine features and was to my eyes, drop-dead gorgeous. She had magnificent, large breasts, an amazing ass, but otherwise was beautifully slim. She used her womanly physique to comfort her boys and I always cherished her cuddles that allowed me a little access to her wonderful body. She would always say sweet, kind things to me and soon enough, I realized that I adored her equally as a parent figure and as an object of sexual desire.

Work was hard to find and my father was forced to take a job in another city which meant he would be traveling a lot, spending most of the week away. At first, I felt weird being home alone with Angela, but she quickly put me at ease with her warm nature. She seemed to slip more easily into a parental role now; organizing my school things, doing laundry and cooking dinner, while at the same time being a comfort, a fun friend and confidant. I missed my real mom of course, but as time went by, the more I loved my step-mom, though I never called her "Mom".

I wasn't jealous of my father for his relationship with Angela, partly because I never thought I could have any kind of sexual experience with her, though I did fantasize about it. Sometimes when she would hug me and squash her amazing tits against my skinny body I got aroused and found myself needing to jerk off afterwards. She never got out of the habit of coming to see me in my room to say goodnight and sometimes it felt beautifully intimate, so that I would imagine her staying with me. She never did of course but it still fueled my fantasies.

I would also dream about her coming quietly into my room at night and crawling under the covers with me, cuddling up, pressing her body against mine and kissing me. I would imagine how her lingerie and skin might feel against mine and how she might start stroking my dick. That thought would normally be enough to make me ejaculate. Of course, this fantasy didn't come true though I wished it would.

As time went on, I found myself staring at her more, peeking down her dress and trying to catch her undressing or in the shower. She wasn't flirtatious exactly, but she certainly had a free and easy way about her and was very physical and affectionate. Angela also had an exhibitionist streak. She loved to sunbathe in our back yard which was always a highlight, watching her in a bikini as her delicious brown skin and curvy body glistened in the sunshine. She was truly breathtaking.

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I started to go out with a girl in school called Hannah, but I was still a virgin. I was a tall, geeky white boy, in stark contrast to the full-bodied African-American figure of Angela, with which none of the girls at school could compete. I brought Hannah home for dinner at our house after taking her on a few dates, Angela cooked a nice dinner and we all sat down. Hannah was a cute girl with pale skin and red hair, but she was nothing in comparison to my amazing step-mom as far as sex appeal went. Although I was desperate to score, I found myself less and less excited by Hannah, especially when Angela was around.

"So, Hannah, Michael tells me you're on the hockey team at school, is that right?" Angela started in as we sat down to eat.

"That's right, Mrs. Joplin," Hannah replied.

"Oh, call me Angela, please. And anyway, I never took that last name. I'm still Angela Moore, sweetie," she replied in her usual warm manner.

I had never really thought about this before and I wondered why she hadn't taken our name. Had she wanted to keep some distance with us? I didn't ask, but perhaps I would another day. Nevertheless, dinner went on pleasantly with Angela and Hannah and the two of them seemed to get along well. After dinner, we sat down to watch a movie, but Angela left us alone soon after. I put my arm round Hannah and tried to make a move.

She wasn't wearing clothes that were particularly revealing so I didn't have easy access. We kissed and I let my hands roam over her arms and shoulders awkwardly. Moving over to her breast as we made out, I felt her pull away. "I should probably head home, Mike," Hannah said. She stood up and walked away, leaving me hard, blue balled and mortified. She exited without too much fuss and I was left thinking that I would probably die a virgin.

Feeling glum, I made my way towards my bedroom where I planned to jerk off, and walking past my father and Angela's room, I noticed the door ajar. Peeking in, I saw Angela. She was moving about the room wearing lacy white underwear, apparently tidying up and putting things away in her drawers. She was wrapped up in what she was doing and didn't notice me, caught under her spell, spying.

She was magnificent with her womanly tits and ass showing, spilling out from under the constrains of the bra and panties. Her bust was bouncing as she moved around, causing me to sweat, but I couldn't look away. Her panties were almost thong-like in how revealing they were and I could clearly see her trimmed pubic hair through the fine fabric. Her tummy and waist looked delicious as always.

Angela continuing pottering around as I stood there, glued to the spot, my viewpoint through the 3 inch crack in the doorway was enough to see her completely. My heart was pounding. After a few minutes, she turned away from the door and looked at herself in a floor length mirror. I could see her back and front side; the best of both worlds.

She started posing and stretching, looking like a hot little sex bomb, at the peak of her physical condition and sensuality. She touched herself a little as if admiring her own perfection, and I could see a smile creep across her face. Did she know I was there? She was behaving as she were being watched. I began to get a little worried when she turned around, let out a little cough and said under her breath, "OK, that's enough," to no one in particular.

I stepped back, realizing this had gone on too long. I didn't know if she had known I was watching her, but I didn't stick around to find out. I quickly went to bed and jerked off. I was so in awe of her and so stimulated that I didn't think beyond what I had just witnessed. I didn't think about fucking her or even touching her, just reveled in her erotic beauty. The vision of this black goddess in white lingerie stayed with me, fixed in my mind, for weeks afterwards.

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The next day was a school day and as always, Angela was helping with my things, insisting that I eat breakfast. I sat down on a stool in the kitchen and she stood next to me, her silky bathrobe brushing against me. She ran her fingers through my hair lovingly and I felt her breast against my shoulder. I closed my eyes and started to sweat. She had occasionally interacted with me this way before, but it always left me unable to function when she did.

"Did you like what you saw last night, honey?" she whispered sweetly.

I was shocked and blushed bright red. "Whaaat?" I replied.

"The movie. The one you watched last night with Hannah. Was it good?"

"Oh," I managed to say, regaining my composure. I had assumed she had been talking about me spying on her in her underwear. "Yeah, yeah. Uh huh," I spurted out.

Her breast lingered against my shoulder as she played with my hair and I tried to eat. "Will you be home tonight or are you going to hang out with Hannah?" she asked me and moved away a little. I regained my composure.

"Actually, Will is gonna come over and we're gonna jam a little," I answered. This guy at school and me were trying to start a band. "Is that OK?"

"Of course it's OK, baby," she replied and started massaging my shoulders. It felt incredible. "Oooh, you're tense," she whispered in my ear. "We'll need to work this out," she said and my mind went blank.

"Well, I should be heading off," I said and stood up abruptly. I looked over at her and I could see her bra where her robe had fallen open slightly. That same white bra from last night. Her hair was a little messy and she looked amazing. "Thanks for breakfast," I said, my eyes falling to her partly visible cleavage.

"Don't mention it, baby. Oh, I'm going to be late home from work tonight, but I can cook something for you boys later, OK?" she said. I nodded and smiled. "Now, let me give my boy a hug," she said and enveloped me in a blissful cuddle, with her chest, hips, legs all up against me and her arms wrapped around. Despite the fact that I was much taller than her, I felt tiny. Then, I went hard and was paranoid she could feel me.

She pulled her face away, but kept her body close and looked up at me, smiling. I was certain she could feel my hard dick pressing against her. She stood up on tiptoes and gave me a kiss on the cheek, which lingered for a moment. "Have a lovely day, baby and I'll see you later this evening," she said, then walked away with a wave. My heart was beating like crazy.

I sat on the bus to school, mesmerized by Angela, while feeling guilty for having all these urges towards her. It felt better than when I was close to Hannah, on those occasions when she allowed me to go a little further, anyway. I began to feel frustrated but tried to forget all about my problems with the fairer sex. By the time I was home again, jamming with Will, I was feeling much calmer.

Angela came into my room as Will and I were attempting a Beatles song with only minor success. "It's sounding good, boys," she said sweetly. "Dinner in ten minutes, OK?" she smiled and walked away.

"Dude, are you adopted?"

"No, she's my step-mom."

"She's super hot," Will went on. Yeah, I knew she was. Everyone knew it. I wanted him to shut up about it. "And where's your dad?"

"He works out of town during the week. He'll be home tomorrow," I replied curtly.

"So you're alone in the house with her all the time?"

"Yeah."

"Dude, have you tried to fuck her?" Will said thoughtlessly. I looked at him.

"No. No way. What?"

"Damn, I would. She's got amazing knockers," he said and trailed off, concentrating on a complicated guitar figure. I chose to ignore him, but the thought stuck in my mind. Would another guy try and make a move on his step-mom? It seemed ridiculous, and anyway, despite the growing distance I felt with my father, I still loved him despite slightly dreading his return home the next day.

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As expected, on Friday evening, dad pulled into the driveway and came shuffling into the house, apparently worn out and tired. "Hey y'all," he said with a sigh and we all gathered around. He had been away for nearly a month this time and I noticed that he looked old; his hair thinning and he was getting heavy, his physique having seen better days. Angela gave him a hug and a kiss but they didn't appear to be too affectionate.

"Let me go and freshen up and we'll all go out to dinner, yeah?" she said turning to me with a kind smile. My father slapped her on the ass as she walked away without saying much else. I felt kinda sick but tried not to show it. For the first time, I noticed that he was a little bit of a sexist pig and condescending to Angela, who I thought should have been treated like the goddess she was. I gave my dad a hug.

At dinner, he held court, spinning stories from work and his goings on the last few weeks. I noticed that Angela seemed to be getting bored, her attention drifting and her replies perfunctory. I stopped listening at some point and concentrated on my food, which was equally uninspiring.

I remembered back to when my father was a bit of a hero to me, after all, he had been a great enough guy to land a babe like Angela. But the man sitting with the stunning Angela tonight looked well and truly out of his depth and she out of his league. I felt a little sorry for him, he was my father after all, and I began to wonder if all was well in their marriage. Back at home, we played a customary game of cards and Angela seemed to cheer up and get into the spirit of it.

I couldn't help but notice that Angela sat next to me on the couch, my father opposite in a comfy chair. Angela sat close and her thighs were snug against mine. Even in this setting with my father and her together, it felt incredible and was another intimate moment between us, at least for me. After a while, my father got up and said he needed to take a bath and relax.

"We'll just hang out here, alright?" Angela said and he nodded absentmindedly. After he wondered off, I sat back on the couch, relaxed and Angela looked at me and sighed. She put her head on my shoulder and as usual, I felt her breasts against my arm. I was frozen, not knowing if I should cuddle her and try to comfort her; was she turning to me for that? I certainly hadn't seen her be close or affectionate with my dad in a while. I felt concern for her.

I put my arm around her and she responded by bringing herself closer to me. My hand landed on her upper arm and I rested my head on hers, as she relaxed onto my shoulder. Her breasts pressed against my chest and her thighs were still snug against mine. It felt indescribably wonderful, I began to sweat and despite my best efforts, went hard. We stayed like that for a few moments, not moving, only my hand stroking her arm a little.

Angela then brought her head up and looked at me, though I couldn't tell what she thinking. Was she lonely and reaching out to me? Was she sad, confused, angry? I had no idea. Was there desire for me behind those eyes? Looking at her, then at me with my lanky, pale body and what I thought were goofy features, I doubted it. But, here she was seeking my comfort and I was glad to give it.

"I'm sorry, Michael," she said, sweetly and quietly.

"Sorry about what?" I said, trying to sound mature.

"I shouldn't impose on you like this. Sometimes I feel like I have no one else to turn to," she said, trailing off as if not wanting to continue the dangerous thought.

"What about my dad?" I asked, immediately regretting it. Angela just sighed again. There was definitely something wrong, but I didn't push it. "Well," I went on, "I'm here," I said softly, impressing myself with a grown up and convincingly masculine line.

"Thank you, baby," she said sadly and kissed me on the cheek, her divine lips resting there for a moment. She moved away a few inches and looked at me again, our faces close; too close for comfort. If my father had come in then and caught us in this embrace, it would not have been a huge leap to believe we had been kissing like lovers. She moved towards me again for another kiss on the cheek, then pulled away.

Releasing her from the voluptuous cuddle we had just shared, Angela stood and brushed herself off. She ran her fingers through my hair as she often did and smiled sweetly. "You're such a fine, lovely, young man, Michael," she said and walked away. I watched her as she left, her feminine form swaying in a way I found difficult to fathom. She turned, waved, then was gone. I heard her close the door to their room so I decided to go to bed too. Naturally, I fantasized about her that night, dreaming of how good she felt and how I wished she'd really kissed me.

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A few days after that, my father left again, heading out to work on another big engineering project. As usual, I promised to stay in touch but my mind was on other things. I was getting close to graduating high school, Will and I were getting this band together and then there were the girls. There was Hannah, who still wouldn't let me get anywhere with her and of course, there was Angela, a continual source of stimulation, wonder, guilt and frustration.

From then on, Angela became more physical with me, more intimate, telling me private things, confiding in me and I noticed a change in how she spoke to me. She would address me more as an equal and an adult, with less of the tone of a parent. I also noticed another trend; Angela was wearing more attractive outfits, was doing herself up a little and was even more free in the casual attire she chose to wear around the house.

She had always worn dresses that showed off her bust, but I began to observe that she wouldn't always wear a bra, which caused her nipples to poke through the material. This would also cause my pulse to quicken. Sometimes she would leave a couple of buttons undone on her top and I think I saw a few new items make their debut; some shorter dresses, a tube top and best of all, some tightly fitting short shorts.

One weekend she was wearing these short shorts and stood in front of me as I was reading a magazine on the couch. Her hips were at my eye level and when she walked over to me, I immediately ogled her sensational camel toe and went bright red. I was unable to form a sentence, so she giggled and walked away, saying, "you're obviously distracted."

Was she doing this for my benefit, or to simply make herself feel better, younger, prettier? I doubted she was that happy or excited by my father, even when he was around, so I also considered the possibility that she might have a lover on the side. Whatever the case, her manner, dress and behavior towards me had changed.

One evening after playing some music in my bedroom with Will, I went into the kitchen and Angela was in there making a snack. She was wearing her silky, silver robe, barely done up in the front. As I got closer I could see more cleavage than I'd ever seen before on her and it was obvious she wasn't wearing a bra. Before she acknowledged that she had noticed me, she leaned forward to fetch something out of a drawer, her robe falling open and I could see an entire breast.

Her nipple was in clear sight, something I had dreamed about but never seen. Still in that position, she looked up at me, smiled and said, "Hey," happily. Standing back up, but without adjusting her robe, she went on. "That sounded really good, Michael." I'm sure it wasn't true but it was nice of her to say. I then glanced down and ogled her tit. At this angle, her nipple was covered again, but only just. Practically, the whole, big, beautiful shape of her breast was on view and I couldn't tear my eyes away.

Angela stretched. She pulled her arms over her head in an exaggerated motion and let out a long, contented sigh. The result of this was that the robe was readjusted and once again, her tit spilled out, momentarily revealing everything. I was spellbound and when she looked at me, I blushed bright red, my jaw wide open.

"Oops," she said with a giggle and casually fixed her robe to cover herself up, but it still wasn't fastened too much. Did she want me to see? Was she trying to get a reaction from me, was she being a flirt or was it all innocent fun? I couldn't tell, partially because my mind was now a complete muddle. "Baby, I'm going to have a bath and turn in, will you give me a hug?" she said softly, walking towards me.

She pressed her body against mine and as she did, I looked down to view her bust again. I could see the beginning of her areola as the robe was barely covering her. I was hard as a rock and when Angela held herself against me, I was certain she could feel me, just as I could feel her tits and hips. She rested her head against my chest and let out a long sigh. "Mmmmmm. I love your hugs these days, Michael," she said as her arms encircled me.