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Step-Daughter Needs His Seed
© Copyright 2016, Veronica Sloan, All Rights Reserved
NOTICE: This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.
Author’s Note: This story contains explicit content, including graphic descriptions of consensual intercourse between a woman and her step-father, and ménage à trois with a mother, her daughter, and another man. It is intended for adults only. All characters depicted are over the age of 18.
* * *
She loved watching his strokes. Each time his long, smooth manhood parted the girl's sex, Cheryl dipped her fingers inside herself. Her other hand on her clit, she pumped in time with his pumps, rapt at the sight of his hairy balls beating against the young girl's buttocks as they bounced on the edge of the mattress.
The girl was tight. She was firm. And her legs were longer and shapelier than Cheryl's had ever been. Not that it was a contest. While Cheryl did have a much more ample bosom than the girl her husband was fucking, she delighted in their contrasts as much as their similarities. They had the same upturned noses, shaped as if by Italian Renaissance sculptors. They had the same creamy skin and long lashes. Cheryl's eyes were blue and the girl's eyes were pale green, but for some reason the fact that their nipples were the exact same shade of carnation pink gave her a wicked little thrill.
It wasn't envy she felt for the girl's beauty (though she might have been a bit envious of the deep, tireless strokes her husband was laying down), it was pride. She was proud of the girl for agreeing to welcome Bill between her legs. She was proud of the girl for her open-mindedness, for her courage. She was proud of the girl for savoring this act of creation and fornication. She was proud of the girl for embracing her sexuality, her lust, her need for the man's seed.
Cheryl felt herself approaching the precipice of orgasm when her husband slickly pulled out and flipped the girl onto her stomach. Her knees knocked against the hotel mattress and she let out a cry of drowsy surprise as Bill smacked her tight, twenty-five-year-old ass and spread her buttocks to help ease himself in from behind.
"Oh!" the girl moaned. "You're so deep!"
That just about sent Cheryl over the edge. Bill gripped the girl's ass and impaled her with a practiced roll of his hips. The girl had never been fucked like this, owned like this. Cheryl knew.
Her husband had become an animal, transformed by his lust, coaxed on by the encouragement of his wife and the ardent cries of the girl. They wanted this. They were on their own island of taboo, locked in this hotel room without a soul the wiser. He was in her, and Cheryl couldn't help herself. She wanted to be a part of this process, wanted to assist in the creation of the life to come.
She kneeled on the carpet and reached up to caress her husband's sack. He groaned with appreciation, and she smiled as she slid her other hand lovingly over the girl's impeccable behind. "Mmm," the girl moaned at the encouragement.
Softly, but greedily, Cheryl wrapped her fingers around the base of Bill's cock and pulled him from the girl's puffy lips. Glistening, the cock pulsated in her hand.
She devoured it. She drew that cock down her throat as far as it would go, so deep that it bumped her tonsils, and Bill nearly keeled over. "Anh," he groaned. "Oh!"
On the bed, the girl was undulating, lost in the fever of her own desire. Yet she watched Cheryl deep-throat her husband with a kind of wonderment. Her face shiny with perspiration, flushed from rigorous sex. This was the first time she'd seen Cheryl like this, so powerful, so lascivious, so sexual. Cheryl caught the girl's eye as she suckled on Bill's penis. She smiled, and let him pull out, the cum dripping from her tongue.
"Now finish in her," said Cheryl. She kissed his shaft. She kissed the girl's beautiful vagina.
"Anh," the girl cried as Bill parted her anew. He slid up to his balls.
"Empty your seed inside her," said Cheryl. "Fill her up, Bill. Give her everything."
Bill's fingers kneaded the flesh of the girl's buttocks as he thrust with abandon. The girl's legs tensed, her toes bit into the carpet. It was clear she was completely at his mercy, forced to accept his imminent ejaculation whether she wanted it or not.
But she did want it. She wanted every last drop of it. That's why Bill had been fucking her all weekend, why Cheryl spoiled him with blowjobs and catered to his every waking lust, encouraged him to enter the young nymph as soon as she had him hard and wet enough. The girl wanted him to cum in her. Again. And again. And again.
"Cum in me," Jane commanded her step-father. "Cum in me, daddy. I'll do whatever you want, just give it to me!”
Right before he came, Cheryl reached up and squeezed her husband's balls. Bill gave a moan of shock, and blew his load. Thick jism spasmed from his magnificent cock and filled his step-daughter's pussy. Mother and daughter sighed with relief as the man pumped and pumped, as Cheryl fondled his balls (and even reached behind him to stick a finger in his bum). "Ooh!" Bill yelped, his cock spasming anew. Another dollop of semen entered Jane's soaked womanhood.
Quivering with relief, Bill pulled himself out of the girl. Jane rolled up onto the bed and tucked her knees to her chest, locking her arms over her shins to keep his semen from dribbling out her body. Their mutual juices glistened on her delicate sex.
But Cheryl wasn’t finished. She grasped her husband's cock and slurped it into her mouth. Bill groaned as she cleaned him with her tongue. He leaned against the mattress, softening in her mouth as the last of his sexual potency drained down her throat.
"I love you," he said to Cheryl. “Both of you.”
On the bed, his step-daughter beamed at him from flushed and glossy cheeks, her knees still drawn to her chin. “I know," she said. "But I still can't believe this."
Suckling at her husband's cock, Cheryl could hardly believe it herself. Although, it had been all her idea...
The seed for the devil's threesome had been planted just a week before. It was the day after New Year's and Jane had come over unannounced while Cheryl was packing away the Christmas lights. She kissed her mother hello, set her purse down on the counter, and casually asked if there was any tea in the house. While the kettle boiled, she went outside to admire the garden.
Even as a little girl, Jane had loved baby's breath. Cheryl watched her daughter through the window as she poured the tea, watched as she crouched amongst the white blossoms and caressed them with her fingers.
She'd said nothing out of the ordinary, but Cheryl knew something was wrong.
It wasn't just that she was the girl's mother (Jane looked so much like her that it was like looking into a youthful mirror). Cheryl always knew when Jane was hiding something. And Jane knew that she knew.
When the girl came back inside, Cheryl handed her her tea and the two of them sat at the dining table, watching the bees in the garden and the gray, overcast sky.
"It's been so long," said Jane.
"Sometimes it takes time," said Cheryl. She tried to sound reassuring.
Her daughter just shot her a dark look over her mug.
Cheryl counted the months in her head. Jane and her husband Elton had been trying to have a baby for what must have been nearly two years now. That was a long time...
"What does Elton say?"
Jane blew into her tea with exasperation. "He doesn't say anything."
"Well, why don't you take some tests? Find out if it's even possible for-"
"It's him," Jane said, the anger suddenly rising in her voice. But, just as quickly, it dissipated. "I know it is," she said sadly. "You know it is."
"Oh, honey." Cheryl reached over and rubbed her daughter's shoulder.
Jane was barely eighteen when she'd first gotten pregnant. The condom broke. She was terrified, sick. She'd told the boy and he avoided her like the plague. Her girlfriends were useless, her teachers were less than useless. It was only after an agonizing week of starving herself and crying herself to sleep that Jane confessed to her mother, bleary-eyed and begging her not to hate her.
Cheryl was shocked, not at the news but at the thought that her daughter, even for a moment, thought her mother would hate her - for this, of all things.
They had talked for a long time and soon after Cheryl booked an appointment for Planned Parenthood. They had held hands in the waiting room and she had been beside her daughter every step of the way. Jane had been miserable about it, but from that day forward there was nothing the two of them couldn't share.
Jane wanted a family someday, wanted children, but not then, not in high school, not with that boy. She wanted to go on to college, wanted to live her life on her terms, wanted to find a career and a husband of her choosing - not because he could impregnate her but because she wanted him to. Cheryl had understood all that very well. It was the choice she'd been denied herself.
So, if nothing else, they both knew that it was not Jane who was infertile.
Cheryl swept the girl's chestnut hair from her eyes as a stream of silent tears stained her face. It was a beautiful face. Her grandmother had always said that the ladies in their family were blessed with classical features: high cheek bones, dark hair, dark lips that could turn cruel or devastatingly kind with the merest twist. Jane took her mother's hand and held it tight.
Everyone agreed that the two of them were more like sisters than mother and daughter. After Jane's father left, they had relied on each other, depended on each other to stay alive. When Cheryl had met Bill, she worried Jane would hate him. And for a little while, she did. But she was ultimately happy to see her mother happy, and when the dust of the wedding settled, the three of them built a happy home together. As the years went by and Jane went off to live her life, mother and daughter saw each other less, but their bond was still strong - perhaps even stronger now that Jane was a wife and working on a family of her own.
"You sure you can't change his mind?" said Cheryl.
"You know how he is," said Jane. "He's stubborn. I sort of love him for that, when it comes to finances, practical things. In this, though...God, I almost hate him. If he'd just get himself checked then he'd know and we could adopt or something, but...he doesn't want to adopt anyway."
Cheryl frowned into her tea. "Are you sure he wants kids at all?"
"Yes, he does. He just - he wants them to be his kids." Jane rolled her eyes. "I guess that means he just wants to make sure they come out of MY vagina."
"Well you could get a sperm donor."
Jane shook her head. "He'd freak out. It's this big macho thing with him. Believe me, we've been trying. A lot." She sighed. "I never thought I'd actually get to dislike sex, but the way we do it now it's just so business-like. He never wants to have fun with it anymore. It's so...ugh. I'm a wreck!"
Cheryl could not say that her daughter was a wreck. The girl was in the prime of her life, her bare legs and neck long and elegant, her skin healthy and tan. However, the shadows under her eyes were evidence of her mental state. Cheryl gently stroked her hand.
"So you're sure Elton won't get checked. Have you thought of getting pregnant with..." Cheryl's words trailed off. Even she was unsure what she meant to say.
Jane glared at her sidelong. "Are you serious?"
"No," said Cheryl quickly. "I mean. I don't know. I mean..." She covered her mouth and couldn't help but grin. "Of course not. No."