Ron Taylor - Do me, Daddy!

He knew. I left him cleaning his pants with a tissue and went downstairs. The party was still going strong, the band was playing dance music, and I tried to get Uncle Roy's attention. The least he could do was take a turn round the floor with his brand-new stepdaughter.

He didn't want to do it, but Mom smiled maternally and insisted, so he took my hand and we moved onto the floor. It was a slow tune, so I pressed closely against him while we stepped to the beat. I wanted to crawl all over his body, but that wouldn't have been exactly kosher for the occasion. Still, I managed to press against him enough to let him know be was dancing with a warm, firm-built young girl, and I could feel his pecker making some tentative motions inside his pants. He knew what was happening and I could almost hear him praying for the dance to last long enough for his swelling cock to go down.

My heels lifted me high, so that I could lay my head on his shoulder and musk him with the scent of my hair. While we danced I whispered to him, "I think we're going to have a nice family relationship. Would you rather I called you 'Roy or 'Uncle Roy' or 'Daddy' or 'Big Stuff'?" My voice was very low and I'm sure no one heard me but him. Still, Uncle Roy had the face of a man who's just been caught doing something very evil. He looked as if the roof were about to collapse on him and him alone.

I'd hit him where he lived. He gulped, his cock seemed to balloon enormously, and his hands clutched me desperately. "Listen," he said, his voice very soft in contrast to the raging hardness of his cock. "There are things you don't know – things you couldn't begin to know – I – my God, this is no place to talk about it…"

"You bought the cow and got the calf in the bargain," I whispered back insolently. "A suckling calf, at that. Suck, suck."

Around us other people were dancing but no one appeared to be eavesdropping. We must have looked like a happy bridegroom and his brand-new stepdaughter sharing an innocent waltz.

Which stopped in another moment, before Roy could answer. He must have been thanking his God and his jockstrap manufacturer as we returned to where Mom was standing, for his hard-on was neatly contained. The fall of his jacket helped conceal it, too, and he grabbed Mom for a dance at the first opportunity, so if she felt his stiff cock, she probably thought it was meant for her. She was entitled to her fantasies, I suppose, but it had been Jenni who made that pecker bloom.

Brian came down soon after, and I danced with him, too, taking a great delight in turning him on once more in the middle of the crowd. His prick got all hot and bothered as we danced close, his feet shuffled off the beat, and I teased him to another little spurt in his pants. He was so easy to excite, but he betrayed a noticeable lack of control. I chalked that up to his inexperience.

His mother was delighted to know that I'd asked him to come by for Cokes and an evening of listening to records. They were just in town for the wedding – they'd be leaving for home tomorrow noon – but of course he could come over to see me. As we walked away I heard her tell someone, "Don't they make a lovely little pair?"

All the guests had gone, finally, and Mom was instructing the special help about cleaning up.

Uncle Roy seemed anxious to be on their way – he was taking her to New York and they were going to combine honeymooning with house hunting and he took great care to avoid being alone with me for even a second.

They went upstairs to change their clothes and collect their honeymoon clothes. I offered to help, but Mom smiled and said I'd had a hard day, why didn't I take some rest?

So I poured myself one last glass of champagne and drank it down, then started upstairs to change out of my white gown. As I went down the hallway, I noticed that Mom's and Roy's voices seemed awfully loud coming out of her room. The door wasn't fully shut, I saw when I got closer, and since everything about Uncle Roy interests me, I stopped to discover if I could hear or see anything worth hearing or seeing.

The door was cracked and if I squinted just right, I could see past it. My vision was limited, but the objects of it seemed to be lined up with my eyes.

Mom was just unzipping her yellow dress and Roy was helping her off with it. Underneath she wore a matching bra of very soft nylon, the points of her nipples sticking out against the fabric, along with yellow panties, garter belt and stockings. No girdle – she didn't need one. She took the dress from Roy and went to hang it up in the closet.

"Won't be needing that for a while," she told him. He moved close behind her, his hands going around, and I knew that he was feeling her tits. She leaned her head back and purred at him. "Are you sorry?" she asked. "Sorry you married me?"

"I'm only sorry it wasn't done a long, long time ago," he said, much more tenderly than he'd ever spoken to me, the bastard!

Mom turned around and walked towards the bed, Roy following. "And Jenni?" she asked. "Are you sorry about her? Oh, Roy, I want you and Jenni to be the kind of friends you should be. She's a good girl, but she's never had a father. I'm afraid all of us have failed her. You've only seen the good side of her. She can be an awful bitch when she wants. Oh, a little wild, perhaps. You know she was kicked out of the school we sent her to. She smokes marijuana, but all the kids do nowadays, and sometimes – just sometimes – I think maybe she's even been had. You know? But I guess that's not so terrible, is it?"

"When are we going to tell her?" Roy asked solemnly. Tell me what?

Mom sighed. "We shouldn't spring it on her out of the blue, but we shouldn't delay it either. I don't know, darling – let our consciences be our guide."

That interested me. What did they have to tell me that was a matter for their consciences? I wondered a moment, but something else caught my attention. Mom was lying down on the bed, unhooking the bra clasp between her boobs as she moved. The cups fell away, her tits sprang free, and she stretched like a cat, her long legs lifting sinuously into the air.

Roy's coat was off and he was just undoing his cummerbund. When he saw her bare tits, he smiled, dropping the sash and hurrying to unhook his shirt. In a twinkling his pants had fallen and he was letting down his shorts to reveal the gleaming blade of his hard-on. Mom whistled and held out her arms to him.

I didn't want to watch. It seemed a dirty thing for me to be doing, but on the other hand, I'd done dirtier things, like screwing the man my mother was in love with. And didn't I owe it to myself to see exactly what sort of competition I was up against?

"Yes," Mom said as she rolled into his arms and they came together on the bed. She kissed every inch of his face and moved down his neck. I saw her nibble his little nips, saw her fingers touch him beneath his arms, saw her hand shoot lower to entrap his cock.

"Carrie," he said, almost religiously, lifting her butt while he slid down her panties. She wiggled arid wriggled to help him, kicking them from her foot when she could, and then Mom lay back on the bed wearing only her garter belt, stockings, and the biggest, brightest smile I'd ever seen.

Uncle Roy kissed her in the middle of that smile as she eased atop him. Her long legs enclosed his body and her round, shapely ass perched on his thrusting meat.

Mom was built all right. Most women her age rely on foundation garments to give them a figure, but not my mother. Her tits were firm and full, her hips without a pound of unnecessary flesh. No wonder Uncle Roy thought she was great stuff. But Christ – was she worth waiting all those years for? Couldn't be.

She lifted her butt and reached in to pick up his dick. It throbbed in her hands – I know because she told him, "Roy, I can feel your heartbeat through your cock," – and she played with it a moment before she guided its steely length into her hole.