Ron Taylor: Stepdaughter in bondage

Norman looked at me for a long time. At least it seemed like a long time. His pants were down to his knees and his dick was sticking out, all hard and red. I guess, in retrospect, it was a pretty funny situation. Me with my shirt pulled up and my bra unhooked, the cups hanging down beside my boobs, my jeans on the floor and my panties swinging from one foot. Norman with his pants down, but not oft and his cock lanced out like a flagpole – a five-inch flagpole. But it looked enormous as hell to me and I sucked in my breath, wondering how he'd ever get that big thick thing inside me. It had hurt like hell when Bucky screwed me, as if he were ripping the lining out of my twat, and if I was any judge, Norman had a much bigger cock.

He reached down, slid his hands up and down my bare thighs. I began to squirm about on the sofa, moaning the way I'd heard Mom moan in bed with Tony, cupping my bare tits from underneath, as if I were offering them to Norman.

"Oooooohhh," I said, trying to feel it, wishing I could feel it the way I had felt the need this afternoon. "Ooooohhhh – fuck me, please, Norman, fuck me!" The words sounded only half true to my ears and I wondered why I was even going through with it. I mean, he slid his fingers through my bush and he touched the crack of my twat, and there was a little tingle but it lasted even a shorter time than the pain had, the time my cherry got popped.

But here I was, mostly naked, and as ready as I'd ever be, and just a few hours ago I'd been fantasizing how great it would be when I offered my body and my pussy to Norman Bates. In study ball this afternoon I'd been all squirmy and wet anticipation. Jesus, most of the hour I spent with my schoolbooks in my lap, my hands secretly rubbing the hard square edges of my books and notebooks against the crotch of my jeans, massaging a hot itch that seemed so intense, so passionate…

And now it was about to happen. Norman's hands continued to fumble with my legs, my tits, my cunt, and finally he lay down upon me, breathing hard, trying to coordinate his body so he could lift his crotch and get his dick ready to enter me.

"No," I said, "you're too low… a little higher, Norman… there… can you feel the crack? That's where it goes." And I was thinking, oh, Christ, doesn't he know what he's doing? Was I getting his cherry?

It should have been a beautiful moment, I guess, but everything gotfucked up. He stuffed his cock into me and I was too dry. My eyes bulged and I groaned despite my will for self-control. He stabbed at me with furious intensity, and somehow or another he got it inside me. It wasn't a question of me not feeling anything. Jesus, I felt it! My cunt seemed to be on fire. His cock was in me, shaking desperately, jabbing in and out, and I wasn't lubricating fast enough to keep it from hurting like slit. I strained and bucked beneath him, and he must have mistaken it for heartfelt enthusiasm, because he only screwed himself into me the harder. We finally got our groins together, but my eyes were full of tears. It was no good, I thought sadly. No good at all. He plunged again and my hips reacted automatically, writhing under him, and I ventured finally to open my eyes and take him in.

Norman's face was ecstatic. His eyes were shut tightly and he was humming and purring through a tight-smile mouth. He felt like he weighed three hundred pounds lying atop me, even though he was definitely on the skinny side. And, now that he'd been screwing me for a few minutes, his cock didn't feel so big at all. My pussy was a little wetter, so that he moved more easily, and the wetter I got, the tinier he felt.

This? I thought. This is what it's all about? Jesus!

Norman stiffened atop me without warning. His eyes snapped open and I thought they were going to pop out of their sockets. He stuck his tongue out and it was like looking at someone strangled by surprise. His cock gave three or four shuddering stabs into my pussy and then it jerked hard, deep in my cunt, and I knew that he was spilling his juice inside me. Oh, shit, right at the Goddamned mouth of my uterus and with any kind of luck at all, at least ten thousand of his sperm cells would take root in my womb and this time nine months I'd be a mother.

Norman stopped finally, and he lay heavily upon me, sighing and moaning. He lifted his face. "Did you come, Rebecca?" he wanted to know.

I resisted my first impulse, which was to sack him in the mouth. I had better comes just thinking lustfully about my middle finger.

"Oooohhh, did I ever," I lied. "Let me up, please – I have to take care of things."

He slid off me and I sat up. Cum was starting to leak from the lips of my pussy, which were tingly and a hell of a lot sorer than they would have been if I'd fingerfucked myself to ecstasy. I looked down at the little puddle of cream-colored goo that was spilling onto the vinyl sofa cushions. It reminded me of runny snot. Christ! I thought. Suppose he'd done that in my mouth! It seemed I could feel my tummy turning upside down. I grabbed the arm of the sofa for support and tensed myself till the sick urge went away.

"Do you have a hankie or something?" I asked, pointing to my cunt.

He was already looking, staring in fascination at his liquid seed where it oozed from my slit. His face was flushed and – did I mistake the look – was that pride beaming in his eyes? I guess it was. After all, he'd put the first notch on his pistol this evening, thanks to me. And when it was over, when he'd finished squirting his juice up me and rolled off, I felt so fucking empty.

I'd done it once for curiosity, and this time I'd done it for what I was sure was love. But it wasn't love, not now, not when everything was done, and I wondered how I could ever have been so dumb as to think it was? I looked at Norman and for the first time I understood how ratty-looking his face was, how skinny his frame, what a genuine total wimp I had let between my legs. And did that make me a wimp, too? I was almost afraid it did.

Well, I thought, wiping myself with his handkerchief. If I get knocked up, it will be a good lesson to me. I'm never going to do this disgusting act again as long as I live. It's a waste of time.

What about my mother? The noises she made when she was in bed with Tony, late at night? They were doing this very same thing. I was young, but not stupid. I knew what men and women did when they were in bed together. So what if she moaned and purred a lot. She was probably putting on an act for the benefit of her man, the way I'd done with Bucky and Norman.

Norman leaned in, started to kiss my shoulder while I dried my pussy.

"Knock it off," I said. "And you'd better get your pants on and your ass down the road, if you don't want my mother and stepfather to catch you in the middle of things. It's almost time for them to be coming in."

He went dead-white, and he was out the door in less than five minutes. I looked at the clock. Not quite ten-thirty. Mmmmmm. I could either turn on the tube, or I could take a quick shower, rinse my pussy out with the nozzle spray, then go to bed and diddle myself to nirvana. Mom and Tony wouldn't be in for at least two more hours.

I headed for the bathroom, dropping clothes all the way. I'd perfume my snatch after I was done bathing. That way, my finger would plunge into a fragrant pit of pleasure as I rocked and rolled over my little bed.

I began to turn lasciviously beneath the shower spray, drenching myself from head to toe in tingly-hot water. Oh, yeah!

As I went through the living room, and in spite of everything, I couldn't help looking at the couch and remembering what had happened to me on it. I shook my head. "Get your mind out of the sewer, Butler!" I commanded myself, and I walked on, toward my bedroom. Outside I could hear the garage doors opening. Soon enough – too damned soon – Tony would be in the house with me. God, I thought, if anyone had to die, why couldn't it have been him.