Milford Thomas - Step-Daughter Initiation

The summer sun beat heavily on the tiny inlet off the broad river. Large trees, untouched by civilization, surrounded the inlet on three sides. The fourth side was a narrow waterway leading back to the river. Wild birds abounded, and on land, small game lived without fear of being attacked and killed by larger animals. Nor did they fear the worst predator of all: man. It was too early for mosquitoes. Everything was quiet and peaceful.

The little cabin cruiser sat silently in the middle of the inlet, at anchor. It had arrived the previous night and would be gone when daylight started fading. This was the last day of the Rheingold's honeymoon. They had rented the cabin cruiser for two days, and Herb Rheingold had found the inlet quite by accident.

At the moment, Herb, his wife Maryann, and Maryann's daughter by a previous marriage, Wendy, were relaxing on deck. Maryann, tall, slender, with jet-black hair, had an excellent figure, and didn't mind showing it off wearing the briefest of bikinis. Her bikini was as black as her ebony hair, hiding her dark bush of pubic curls, though the hairs did stick out around the sides of the crotch band. Her tan thighs were long, slender and firm, with no stretch marks. In fact, although the woman was thirty-four, she looked at least ten years younger. Her fingernails and toenails were painted blood red, and her short, midnight hair was in an upsweep.

Cornering Herb Rheingold had been quite a feat for the divorcee. True, the man wasn't rich, but he had a good job as a real estate broker, and considering her condition when he and she had first met, she was ten times better off.

Rehingold, nice-looking, five feet nine inches in height, with graying black hair, was five years older than she. He had never been married, and when she'd come to his agency looking for a job as a part-time secretary, he had been smitten almost instantly with her. Not even her twelve-year-old daughter, Wendy, deterred the man from pursuing her. And Maryann, realizing how much the man was attracted to her, let him chase her until she caught him. He was about ten pounds overweight, but it made him look prosperous rather than fat. He had piercing gray eyes that seemed to look through one rather than at one, but Maryann soon learned it was an illusion.

Wendy, Maryann's daughter, was a tiny little •thing, with long, medium-brown hair. Her figure was somewhat underdeveloped for her age. Most of her girl friends were wearing bras, whereas Wendy might have qualified for a training bra, but nothing more. Otherwise, her white flesh had nice curves around the rump and hips, and she had nice-looking calves, but otherwise she was still a little girl. Her arms were like sticks, and she had baby fat around her waist. In her one-piece bathing suit, she looked chic. Maryann hadn't wanted to take her daughter on her honeymoon, but she'd had no one with whom to leave the girl, and she had no intention of leaving her home alone. So Wendy had come with them, though in a separate room, at night.

A bottle of champagne sat in an ice bucket on a small deck table Evening was already coming on as Maryann drank her last glass, emptying the bottle. She was a little high and becoming animated in her actions.

"It's such a beautiful evening," she said. "And this is such a pretty lake."

"We'll call it Lake Maryann, after you," her husband smiled, putting down his own champagne glass.

Maryann turned to look at her new husband, whom she was certain she was able to control and said, "Thank you, darling. I appreciate that."

Her words were more than slightly slurred, but she didn't care. She felt good, really good. The warm air caressing her body felt like a light, tingly summer shower.

Wendy, seeing the looks passing between her mother and stepfather, decided this was no place for her. Not that she knew what actually took place between men and women. Her mother had been very careful to hide anything having to do with sex from her. In fact, she knew less than any other girl her age. And she wished she knew more. True, she'd already had her period twice, and her mother had carefully explained it as a normal, natural occurrence, telling her it was something she'd have to endure once a month, every month, for the next thirty to thirty-five years. But that was all she knew.

Standing, the young girl decided to go inside the cruiser and lie down on her bunk bed. She kissed her mother good night, dutifully kissed her stepfather, and saw the flush come to his cheek when her lips touched him. For some reason she was unable to understand, the man blushed whenever she kissed him or touched him. The girl went inside, shutting the small doors behind her.

Herb was hot. He figured this was as good a time to rip off a piece of his new wife as any. Wendy had proven herself discreet enough not to interfere or interrupt whenever he was sexually involved with her mother.

"I think we should get ready for bed," Maryann murmured, getting to her feet.

"I'd like to," her husband whispered, coming up behind her and cupping her full breasts with his hands, "but we have to get this boat back in a few hours."

"Oh?" she asked, twisting to face him. Her eyes were half-closed, lips slightly parted, and she shivered with sexual hunger as the man leaned down and kissed her solidly on her lips. Although somewhat straitlaced about sex, Maryann felt the champagne working on her. She surprised her husband with an instant response, darting a tongue into his mouth. She even surprised herself, not realizing how wanton she suddenly felt.

He willingly sucked her tongue, tasting her mouth as he tightly tugged her firm form against his own body. She held the kiss for a long moment, the blood pounding in her temples, aware his blood was moving no less swiftly. It was pouring into the many tiny sacs in his penis, hardening it, and she sensed his need for her.

During Herb Rheingold's courtship, Maryann had withheld herself from him, allowing a few more liberties each time they got together, never allowing him to enter her until the wedding night.

Even then, it had been missionary fucking all the way? him on top, tier on the bottom. And that was the way it had been during the entire honeymoon. Not once had she considered any kind of variation, and he hadn't wanted to do anything to break the harmony between them. But here, tonight, on deck, he very much wanted to fuck her, and she, thinking of her daughter below, had no intention of allowing it to happen. Had she not had so much champagne, it might not have happened, but their mouths continued caressing each other, tongues licking in cadence against each other, and soon Maryann found herself in a funk, unable to fight off his moving fingers.

His lips peeled from hers, then she found herself being turned away from him as his hands pulled on the strings of her bikini halter. The two triangles covering her tan nipples and aureole fell away to the deck of the boat. She wanted to protest-she knew he was half-expecting her protests but was determined to continue no matter what she said or did. Maryann sensed his need to undress her completely at that moment, and she was too aroused to fight him.

With her back to him, Maryann felt her husband's eyes wandering over her body. She liked having him look at her, and with Wendy in the cabin below, she saw no reason to deny him the sight of her curvaceous torso. She sensed the anxiety in him as she turned and let him stare at her full, round breasts. They stood up more solidly than those of many girls half her age. God! She had seen sixteen-year-olds with huge sacks supported by their bras. She, Maryann, had exercised every day since her breasts had started budding. She even insisted Wendy do the same exercises. As a result, her high, round breasts were as firm now as they had been when they'd first been completely formed.