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His Step-daughter’s Little Pink Phone

by | taboo | 0 comments

Trigger warning: incest roleplay, step-father/daughter incest, age disparity, dubious consent, drunk sex

“Fuck me, daddy!” she said in a whiny little girl voice.

Jake paused, his body frozen. He looked down at the pink-skinned college girl on the kitchen floor. She was lying on her back, her head turned slightly, eye makeup running. Her black t-shirt was pulled up, and her purple bra was pulled down enough so that her hard nipples and their puffy areolas stuck out. Her legs were pushed up, so her knees almost touched her head and were held together by her panties, which were around her calves.

Her green eyes opened wide as she gasped and put her hand over her mouth in mock dismay.

“Oh, shit, was I not supposed to call you that?” she said with a giggle, blushing in an odd mark of shyness considered the situation.

Jake thought about it for a moment, his cock was still hard, and he was enjoying the unique sensation of just pausing inside of her pussy and feeling her muscles clench around him as she giggled.

He had someone who more appropriately called him “daddy,” and so this girl’s little game was a bit strange but still dirty and hot. A few hours before, he picked her up in front of the bar he frequented when she couldn’t get in because her fake ID didn’t get her past the bouncer. She was twenty, bratty, blonde, and before he knew it, she was following him home.

Her name, or at least the name she gave him, was Tiffany. She had frowned when he didn’t have any cranberry juice to mix with her vodka. They ended up forgetting about drinks quickly as she slipped out of the skirt she was barely wearing and straddled him right in his breakfast nook. She took out her bubble gum and placed it on the table before sucking his cock, and that almost made him come on the spot. Soon he was fucking her on the floor, and that’s when the “D” word came up.

“I-um, I guess it’s okay. Actually, it’s kind of hot. Keep going,” he verbalized as well as one could when they were fucking someone half their age.

She looked him in the eye and smiled and pushed herself back against him, forcing the rest of his cock into her excruciating heat.

“I’m into that, like, calling guys daddy and stuff and, like, pretending I’m a little girl,” she said, continuing to push back and forth against him.

He was groaning as his hands found her hips, and he took control again.

“Pretending? You are a little girl, and I’m old enough to be your father,” he said as he marveled at how slick and tight she was.

She rubbed her breasts and whispered to herself, “yeah, you are old enough to be my father, dirty old man fucking a little girl.”

The thought of games like that had crossed his mind over the years, but hearing it out loud caused some new animal to awaken inside of Jake. He fucked her hard and fast, his fingers leaving red marks on her hips as he used her body.

“Fuck, yes, come inside my little girl cunt, daddy!” and he had little choice other than obeying. The monster inside of him was in control. Then he was coming and coming, and the world faded away, and the only thing he knew was her pink skin, bubble gum breath, and the tightness around him.

He nearly passed out on the floor as she slipped from under him and kissed him on the cheek before finishing her vodka and putting on her clothes, and leaving.

It was only three days later when he heard that potent word again.

“Daddy, where’s my phone?”

The “y” in “daddy” was so long and drawn out it was a wonder Jake didn’t trip over it on the way into the living room, where his actual stepdaughter pouted and stomped and pulled apart couches and drawers looking for said phone.

Jake, the ever helpful and ever-exasperated stepfather, put down his paper and coffee and got up to help with the search, if for no other reason than to stop the noise.

In his living room was an eighteen-year-old girl on her hands and knees, butt in the air. In order, he saw: two small feet spread out on the beige carpet, a pair of knee-high rainbow-colored socks covering thin legs, six inches of pale naked thighs, a pair of candy pink underpants, a denim skirt that was theoretically supposed to cover said underpants, three inches of naked back and a bright blue t-shirt. The chocolate brown hair and the head it was attached to were under a coffee table, and Maddy’s arms were who knows where.

“It’s around here somewhere. Why don’t you use my phone to call it,” Jake offered from the hallway, unsure he could take watching any more of his stepdaughter’s crawling around on the floor.

“I found it!” said the young girl. This exclamation was punctuated by a crack as she hit her head on the table she was under. Then giggles and wiggling as she extruded herself from the position.

In the hallway, Jake groaned; he hoped inaudibly.

Sometimes he wondered how he let her out of the house. At fourteen, she was a precocious tomboy. At sixteen, she was awkward and shy. In the last two years, she’d grown into a knockout who was still a bit unaware of how beautiful she was.

He wondered if she knew exactly what exposing that inch of pink fabric between her legs could do to a man, including him. All of her girlish clumsiness. All the moments he bumped into her after her shower, towel nearly falling off. It was all a little too much for Jake sometimes.

There was guilt, of course, but that probably made the desire far worse. It had always been true that Jake wanted things that were forbidden. What was more forbidden than his teenage daughter?

Then again, she wasn’t really his daughter. By law, she probably wasn’t even his stepdaughter anymore. His relationship with Maddy’s mother Rachel had lasted almost a decade, but the marriage only lasted about a year and a half.

The marriage was a bit of a sham. Rachel was convinced she could make a hard-working husband and father out of a lazy man-child, and Jake convinced himself that would be a good thing

It took years for them both to realize the futility of the prospect, but by then, he’d imprinted as some kind of father figure or cool uncle to Madison and entrenched himself in every facet of Rachel’s life. They opened and ran a bookstore together. They owned a home together. While Rachel had full custody of Maddy, she visited him all the time, he took her to the movies. They all still had Thanksgiving together.

Jake considered himself a good ex-husband. He was someone to blame and yell at. Ever since his novel came out, he was good for an anecdote or joke. Since his divorce, Jake had his stepdaughter Madison over every other weekend, though since she graduated high school, those weekend visits had slowly dwindled when she started college. At that point, Maddy only came over to his place when she needed to get out of the house for a while.

Madison, at eighteen, was as different from her mother as could be. With all of Rachel’s business mindedness and no-nonsense logic, she was practically the opposite of Maddy, the budding artist and free spirit. Maddy also liked to go to Jake’s house to work on her painting or talk about things her mother didn’t understand. As it often happened, for eighteen-year-old girls, mothers seemed to understand very little. Maddy started college a year before, but was still living at home, and Rachel was a bit domineering and overprotective.

Of late, Maddy had been rebelling more and more, as Jake knew was inevitable. Rachel had started dating a man seriously a few months after they’d broken up, and her nesting instincts had taken over. It didn’t take long for Rachel to marry the new guy, even though Maddy didn’t like him much. Not wanting anything to do with Rachel’s picket fence dreams, Maddy tended to come over to Jake’s more and more.

As Jake flipped over Maddy’s eggs, the teen packed her backpack full of clothes and her laptop and prepared to go back home for a while. They’d had a father-daughter weekend of movies and pizza, but Jake had work and Maddy had class, and Rachel would only tolerate so much absence without accusing Maddy of trying to escape.

“I’m really excited about class today. We’re going to do our first nude drawing!” she said, pouring hot sauce over her eggs and bacon.

Jake just shook his head and laughed as he remembered his stint in art classes during his many years of liberal arts meandering.

“What are you smiling about?” she asked with a crooked smirk.

“Nothing, just remembering the first time I sketched a nude model.”

Her eyes went wide as she dabbed at the eggs with her toast. “Were you nervous? Was it a woman?”

“Yes, and yes,” Jake said with a laugh.

“And were you a total dork about it?”

Jake laughed as he put down the plates and turned and got his coffee.

“Nope, actually, I met up with her afterward, and we ended up going out for drinks.”

Maddy’s eyes opened wide as she shoveled cereal into her mouth and eyed her stepfather, wondering if what he said was true.

“Did you…” she was bold, but not that bold.

Jake laughed as he picked up his paper.

“Those were different days–”

“But you were the same age as me!” she said with a smirk.

“No, I was twenty,” Jake corrected.

“How old was she?” Maddy said, stealing his toast.

“Eighteen,” Jake said, eyeing his stepdaughter, knowing he’d fallen into a trap of some kind.

She finished her cereal with a Cheshire Cat smile and winked at Jake when she got up.

“Just like me! Wonder if anyone will want to paint my picture this year.”

Jake watched his stepdaughter get ready to go home. She had grown fast during high school, now almost as tall as he was. She was thin and coltish, like a model. Her lips were the thing that drew his eyes, and most other men within eye-shot, the most. Like her mother, Maddy had huge bee-stung lips, but in the last few years, they’d become even more full and thus even more distracting. They were almost impossibly large, and Jake had no doubt someone would be asking to paint her picture this year and for many years after.

A car horn gave them both a start. Jake looked out the window to see his ex in her minivan waiting impatiently. Maddy jumped up and got her bags together, stuffed herself into a winter coat, and gave Jake a quick kiss on the cheek that, in the rush, turned out to fall half on his lips.

“See you in a couple of weeks, daddy,” she said with her familiar teasing tone.

“Daddy” was still a title that made him cringe. Since puberty, it had taken on a somewhat naughty ring that Madison was more than aware of. Now, after the girl from the bar, it was a word that did several things to his body all at once.

With the door slammed and his stepdaughter gone, Jake settled and quieted. She was a hurricane who left his home a mess and his head a wreck. It was good to see her, but good to see her go as well.

It was two hours after Maddy left that he found the pink phone in the kitchen. She’d left it again. She was forgetful, she was clumsy, yet it was all part of her charm.

The pink thing buzzed and chirped as a message came in.

“Daddy, you’ve probably found my phone and thus confirmed that I am the most absent-minded girl in the world. I’ll come pick it up tomorrow. Xoxo,” said the display, coming from Maddy’s mom’s phone number.

He laughed and went about cleaning up breakfast when the phone buzzed again.

“Thanks for the pictures. You’re the fucking hottest girl I’ve ever seen. – Steve,” said the text message bubble.

Jake stared at the phone. He swallowed. He shook his head.

Kids sent pictures to each other. That’s what happened. It was inevitable. Anyhow, she was eighteen and in college. He put the phone in his desk drawer and cleaned up the kitchen and the living room, and tried to put it out of his mind.

Unfortunately, the pink phone would not stay out of his head.

That evening, Jake sat far back in his chair, hands folded on his chest, brow furrowed. On his desk lay his stepdaughter’s somewhat scratched-up pink phone. He stared at the bubblegum-colored device; the phone stared back at him. His stomach sank.

It wouldn’t mean anything if he looked. It wouldn’t mean anything except that he was horrible and that he’d broken his daughter’s trust. But there was the chance there were horrible things on there. There was the chance that she was doing dangerous things. Sending half-naked pictures to kids at school was the least of it. She could be sending pictures to adults, maybe even meeting people in person.

He shook his head. He didn’t think it had gone that far, but one never could tell.

He took the pink thing in his hand and examined it. He knew it stored the pictures on a memory card, since he’d been the one who’d bought her the phone last Christmas. He had a memory card reader on his computer.

Five minutes later, there was a new folder on his computer’s desktop, and the chip was back in the phone. No one would ever know—no one but him.

There it sat, and there he sat. “Untitled,” it whispered. A little folder full of his daughter’s secrets.

He cracked his knuckles, he got up, and walked around his house. He got a beer. He looked at the computer screen. He walked around some more and sipped the beer. He put the folder into the little trash icon. He dragged the folder back out of the trash.

There were folders and subfolders; General, Steven, Elton, Chris, Megan. His eyes opened wider at Megan. Each of those contained; received, sent, and videos.

He sighed. This was it. The safest was General. He started there.

Three girls making duck lip Facebook faces into a camera. A beer pong table. A painting of symmetrical triangles overlapping on a purple background. A college-age guy in glasses looking shyly down. A red-haired girl looking hungrily at the camera.

It went on and on like that—normal college kid pictures. People laughing and drinking and posing and making faces. There was a video of people singing karaoke. Jake sighed and felt a little better.

Next was “Megan.” He went to “Received.” The same red-haired girl in some of the other pictures. Smiling, flirting eyes, all dressed up in a gown, high school graduation, in a club, in a corset. Jake stopped for a moment. The next picture of this Megan girl looking right at the camera, in nothing but a bra, pulling one of the cups down to reveal small white breasts with a small pink nipple. There were a few more like that, nothing too shocking.

Jake thought about the “sent” folder, but went to one of the male names.

“Steven” turned out to be a college-age guy, perhaps twenty-one. Pictures of him with other college guys. Pictures of him on stage playing an acoustic guitar. He was handsome, almost pretty. In one picture, he had his arm around Maddy, taking a picture of them. In the next, they were kissing. Jake’s hand closed into a fist. He wondered if it was protectiveness or jealousy. He wondered where the line between them was.

He went back to “Megan” and looked at “Sent.”

Maddy in the sun, on a boat, in the big city. Jake smiled broadly at Madison in a play and Madison looking sexy in a mini skirt. Then, his stepdaughter with eyes that were either drunk or filled with lust, holding the camera and taking a picture of her reflection, nude from the waist up, just barely covering her breasts with one arm.

Jake closed the picture. He was shaking a little. He opened the “Steven” folder, remembering the text he had sent that started all of this. He opened the “Sent” folder and opened the last three pictures on the list all at once.

A flash of her breasts. The curve of her ass. Her pussy, shaved bare, spread open.

He closed the windows. He shut down the computer. Guilt flooded his veins, and he grabbed his jacket and went out into the cold night to find some solace.

Keats was a local pub. For a long time, Jake wanted a bar of his own. He wanted to be a regular. It only took him about thirty years to find it, but there it was. It wasn’t dirty enough to be a proper dive, but it wasn’t clean enough to invite tourists or yuppies.

His pint was poured, and he drank a third of it on one gulp before choking and gasping and spitting all over the counter.

“Shit! Jake, you okay?” Teddy, the bartender, said, wiping up the mess.

Jake waved that he was as he looked at the cause of the choking. The bratty girl who called herself Tiffany was sitting on a stool at the end of the bar spinning around laughing at him.

He wiped his face with a napkin as she walked over, carrying some pink concoction. She plopped down on the stool next to him and leaned over, looking a bit tipsy. She whispered into his ear, “I used my sister’s driver’s license, and they bought it!”

He let out a laugh and shook his head. She smiled and sucked at her straw suggestively.

“So, like, you want to hang out at your place again?” she said, sounding every bit a twenty-year-old.

The bartender cleaned a mug and stared at Jake with concern and curiosity. Jake was something of a lady’s man, but certainly not someone who would pick up a college kid.

“Maybe not tonight,” he muttered, pointing to his shot glass and tipping back another whiskey.

He felt old and guilty and tired. He felt like he needed to be drunk.

It turned out the girl’s name actually was Tiffany, and she just moved into town to go to the local college. Jake listened to her life story as he drank shot after shot and beer after beer.

An hour later, in the bathroom, Jake had to lean against the wall as he peed. He smiled drunkenly to himself, realizing that the whiskey had worked and he’d forgotten about that little pink phone and all of its little pink secrets.

He was too drunk to object when Tiffany snuck into the bathroom and pull him into a stall.

The bevy of questions he should have asked seemed to get pulled back into his body before they could escape his lips. This was probably because of Tiffany’s nearly unbelievable ability to pull down a man’s pants and get his cock into her mouth in three seconds flat.

“Fuck, all I’ve thought about for the last week was your dick in my mouth and how you fucked me like a little slut,” she said, with surprising enunciation as she licked his balls and jerked him off between taking him back into her mouth and pushing his cock down her throat until she gagged.

Jake tried to say something, tried to push her away, but when she looked up at him with his cock in her hand and locked eyes with him and whispered, “you don’t have to do anything, daddy, I just want your come in my mouth. I just need it, okay? Then I’ll leave you alone.”

He was gone.

He roughly pulled up her shirt and bra enough so that he could pull at her nipples while she sucked his cock and licked and sucked on his balls. It took almost no time before she was coming into her hungry mouth.

The banging on the door brought him back to reality. He pulled up his pants, shuffled around the girl who was fingering herself, left the bathroom and the bar.

When Maddy came by to pick up her phone, Jake noticed her eyes were red.

“So, what’s going on?”

She shrugged in that way that told him he had to get the information out of her, so he sat her down and gave her a Cherry Coke, and waited.

“I messed up,” she started.

“How bad?”

“Not very bad, I just, it’s complicated. Mom’s being a real jerk. She says I spend too much time on my phone and online and not enough on studying,” she said. The hesitation between each sentence which told him she was hiding something.

“Well, maybe she’s right. Maybe when you come over next weekend, we can go over some kind of schedule for you. I’m good at figuring out ways to get work done when all I really want to do is watch kung fu movies and read books,” he said with a laugh.

She gave that a half-smile.

“You get to class and don’t worry so much about your mother. You’re almost out of her house. You’re in college. You’re on your way to freedom,” he said and patted her on her knee, which suddenly felt awkward, and that worried him.

She kissed him on the cheek and grabbed her phone, and skipped out, looking a lot happier.

When Maddy was dropped off the next weekend, she was pouting and silent. He made a point to be extra nice to her. He had packed the refrigerator with her favorite things. Cherry Coke, Chocolate chip ice cream, and raspberries. He ordered a pizza. He rented some movies he knew she liked.

A few days before, his ex-wife, Rachel, called and confirmed that Maddy was in big trouble, though she was somewhat vague about what that trouble was. Something about Maddy’s computer and boys. The point was Maddy was grounded and wasn’t allowed to use the computer for anything but school work.

Maddy came into Jake’s house, outing with every inch of her body. She stomped and huffed and threw herself onto the couch.

“She’s horrible!”

Horrible was Maddy’s new word. The angst of being just out of high school made everything “horrible,” and Jake had to bite his lip not to smile at how she dragged out the first syllable. “Whoooorable.”

Jake sat down in his chair next to the couch.

“From what I hear, you deserve it,” he was trying to be stern but not mean.

Maddy’s face went a little white.

“What- what did she tell you?”

Jake was a little taken aback by how nervous she sounded.

“Well, I mean, nothing specific. You’ve been talking to boys online when you’re not supposed to? It’s getting in the way of your schoolwork? What else?”

Her white face now went crimson. Her replies were now mumbles.

“Nothing. I mean, nothing else. Just that. Whatever. I guess she’s not horrible-horrible. She’s just overreacting.”

“Well, I got some movies, and there will be a pizza here in a few minutes, and we can make the best of no computer and no phone for a weekend, right?”

She seemed to be trying to smile, but the thought of no connectivity was really tough on her.

He took a deep breath. He wasn’t going to be a pushover for her pouting.

“I guess it will be okay,” she weakly smiled, though her lip quivered a bit, and her eyes glistened.

His throat felt tight.

The movies were comfortingly bad. There was some strange new tension in Jake’s head that he couldn’t put his finger on, but he thought it had something to do with the guilt over looking at her picture. Maddy’s breasts. Maddy’s ass. Maddy’s pussy. As he sat on the couch with her practically laying over his lap, he could just see down the loose collar of her t-shirt. He looked away.

“Daddy, I demand more ice cream,” she said in the silly faux spoiled voice she sometimes took on when they were comfortable.

He was happy to get up from the couch, up from under her body, and find something to do.

By eleven, she was asleep, and he slipped a blanket over her and made his way into his bedroom. Sleep wouldn’t come, and he was half-hard and half-awake an hour later when she heard a noise.

Walking out into the hall, he saw light from the bathroom. There was a laugh and then a thump. Jake walked closer to the door, which was slightly open. He should have just left the situation alone, but curiosity was egging him on.

Through the crack of the door opening, he saw Maddy, in nothing but bright pink panties with the word “princess” written over the butt, holding her camera in the air and taking pictures of herself. She pushed out her chest and then pulled her arms in to squeeze her breasts together.

Then typed on her phone’s keypad and laughed again.

Jake turned to go back to bed. It was harmless, but catching her at it wouldn’t be. When he turned, his hand caught the edge of a book on a nearby table, and the thick tome made a heavy sound on the hardwood floor.

He turned to the bathroom door and saw Maddy’s huge eyes almost popping out of her head.

“Daddy!” she whined in fear.

Jake clenched his jaw, trying not to look angry (or turned on or guilty,) but Maddy was a smart girl. She knew he’d seen her. Her eyes welled up with tears immediately.

She closed the door for a moment and then came out of the bathroom in a t-shirt. The pink of the panties were still visible. She ran to him and hugged him tightly.

“Daddy, please,” she cried, “please don’t tell mom.”

It ripped him apart. He fumbled for something that could save the situation. Some way, he could make his little girl feel better, but still learn a lesson.

“Okay, okay, shh, calm down, we will figure this out,” he soothed, hugging her and rubbing her back.

“Just don’t tell mom, please. I promise I won’t do it anymore. I promise. If I get in trouble with her one more time, she’s going to kill me. She wants to kick me out. You know how she is. She caught me, with, you know, my webcam, and she called me a slut, and I don’t know how I can live with her anymore.”

The words and the tears spilled out, and he comforted her as well as he could. Eventually, he promised her he wouldn’t tell and got her to crawl back on to the fold-out couch.

She sniffled as he tucked her in. “Tell me I’m not a bad person,” she whispered.

“You’re not, kiddo. You’re just a normal eighteen-year-old girl. You’re messing around, and there’s nothing wrong with that. You just have to be careful. Putting…” he paused and thought how to word what he wanted to say.

“Putting pictures out there could have consequences. Guys can be jerks. They can like you one day and then end up showing the pictures to people,” he said, patting her head.

She nodded. “I know, it’s dumb. It’s just some silly thing everyone seems to do,” she said with a yawn.

He left her to sleep and the battle between that little monster inside of him that watched her and longed for her, and the guilt he felt for looking at her pictures.

Tiffany was on his front porch the next morning when he went out to get his paper, and it scared the shit out of him.

“Hey there, mister,” she said and leaned in for a kiss.

Jake’s face was red, and he nearly fell over as he grabbed her arm and escorted her off the porch.

“Listen, my daughter is home, and I can’t have you here. I didn’t invite you here, and it’s totally inappropriate for you to just stop by. Do you understand me?”

She looked genuinely scared.

“Hey, hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I mean, I didn’t even know you had a daughter. I’ll get out of here. I just really liked all the stuff we did. I won’t come around anymore if that’s what you want, though,” she said, looking like a kicked puppy.

Jake took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry. I just get a little protective of my stepdaughter. Maybe, we can have a date sometime, but not now. Just don’t stop by unannounced. Come by Friday, and I’ll give you my phone number, and you can call if you want to come over, okay?”

She brightened.

“Okay, Friday. I’ll be good, promise. I’ll let you do whatever you want. You go inside and be a nice father, and Friday you can be a bad daddy again, right?”

He grimaced at that but nodded. She then scampered away.

His weekend went well. He took Maddy to a museum, tried to stay out of the house. Tried to stay out of his head.

She hadn’t seen Tiffany and that whole interaction, but the way Jake’s two worlds almost collided shook him up. It also made those two worlds closer in his head. Every thought of the word “daddy” brought on a little tidal wave of emotions, sexual and paternal, and most of all guilty.

When he finally put Maddy in the car that would take her home, he was grateful. He hugged her and tried to push all the dirtiness away. He vowed to change things, to not let himself play with those dangerous thoughts again.

But deep down, he knew the monster that had awakened inside of him wasn’t done. Not by a longshot.

Finishing up an article for a trendy computer magazine, Jake sat back at his desk on Friday and looked at the calendar hanging on the wall beside him. Today, he knew, was Rachel’s anniversary with her new husband. Jake had parted with Rachel on reasonably good terms and had kept in touch since he still saw Maddy every two weeks or so. There was a pang of sadness when he thought of all that could have been.

All the white picket fence dreams that Rachel had shared with him and that he had inevitably denied. Looking around his small home, he saw books and bottles of bourbon. He saw the detritus of his weekly poker game with the boys from the night before. He wondered if he could be that person Rachel wanted. Could he be the barbecuing husband with the nine-to-five job and the minivan?

There was a knock on the door, and as he scratched the stubble on his chin and got up to answer it, he caught a glimpse through his front window of Tiffany, in pigtails, promptly taking him up on the offer he’d thrown at her just to get her to leave.

She was wearing pink and white striped over-the-knee socks, a skirt that was barely bigger than a large belt and halter top. He opened the door quickly and pulled her into the house, looking around to make sure no one saw the obscenely dressed girl who looked like a teenager.

He roughly put her into a chair in the kitchen, and she giggled at his stress and aggression. There was somehow a soothing awkwardness to having Tiffany in his kitchen. He had his morning coffee and watched her.

She was full of energy, unable to really sit still. There were things about her that reminded him of Maddy, but far more aspects that were completely dissimilar. Tiffany was blonde, skinnier, she had smaller breasts, and she was missing Maddy’s calm soulfulness. There were also Maddy’s lips, which Tiffany couldn’t even come close to.

“So, you gunna fuck me, or do you have to be drunk?” she said, knee-shaking, eyes pinballing from shiny object to shiny object around the house.

Jake sighed deeply.

“I don’t have to be drunk to fuck you,” he said calmly, going to the cupboard and getting a bottle of single malt Scotch he’d been saving for a rainy day and two glasses.

“But I’m probably going to get drunk anyway.”

She giggled and opened her legs wide. She had no panties on, and Jake groaned at fresh pinkness.

“Every time my real daddy sends me money for books and food, the first thing I do is get waxed,” she said, pulling her skirt up and touching the flawless, smooth mount above her slit.

“Do you like it all smooth, mister?” she said, slipping her fingers of the waxed skin and squirming under her own touch.

“Take your clothes off except for the socks,” he said, sitting back in his chair and watching the girl with a hard look on his face.

She seemed thrilled to have orders. She stripped quickly, sat back in her chair when naked (save the pink socks that went up to her mid-thighs), and opened her legs again.

“We’re going to play a game. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he said, his tongue thick with arousal and guilt. He took a long swallow of Scotch to help lubricate his words and his thoughts.

She nodded vigorously, her pigtails bobbing as she did.

Jake was many things, but most of all, he was a dreamer. Being a writer, fantasies were part of his occupation. He had to think up things all the time. As he looked at the girl in front of him with her mix of innocence and sluttiness he saw the living embodiment of so many of his darkest fantasies.

He shouldn’t be playing with someone like that, but since he was, he’d might as well take advantage of the situation. The monster inside of him smiled and laughed, and Jake hoped that if he gave the thing what it wanted, maybe it would go away.

“Go into the bedroom. It’s the third door down the hall,” he said, pointing casually, “slip into bed and pretend to be sleeping. I’m going to come in check on you. I’ll be pretending-”

All the playfulness washed away from her face, and her eyes went wide.

“To be my father, coming in? Coming in to like tuck me in and you… do stuff to me? That’s like, my biggest fantasy ever,” she said seriously.

Jake was planning out something, some scenario, something that made his heart speed up and cock harden.

“You can’t-” he tried to think of the words, “you can’t act like you want it that much, not at first.”

She shook her head fast, her pigtails bobbing again.

“I’m going to like, force you, but if you really want me to stop-” he explained, but she finished his sentence.

“A safe word! I have one. I’ll say Budapest. Then you have to stop,” she said quickly, her legs shaking a bit.

He smiled and laughed a little. Laying it out, negotiating the particulars, it didn’t seem so taboo. It was just a game. They were both adults. They were just playing out a little game.

“I promise I’ll stop, but only if you say Budapest,” he said calmly.

She stood and kissed him on the cheek.

“I’m going to sleep, daddy. I’m tired,” she whispered, biting her lip.

He was so hard, he didn’t understand how his body was reacting.

“Are you going to wish me sweet dreams, daddy?” she breathed into his ear.

Jake swallowed. His hand brushed against her cheek, and he looked into her eyes. For the first time, he wasn’t just letting her say the words. He was actually trying on the part in her roleplaying game.

“Sweet dreams, baby girl,” he said and kissed her lightly on her temple.

Her eyes were even wider, looking like a kid who had just walked into Disneyland. Then she turned and slowly made her way into his room.

Jake sat in his kitchen for a good ten minutes. He drank his Scotch slowly. He thought about what he was doing. Any guilt or fear seemed to be overcome by memories of how tight the girl was and how she moaned and squealed and begged him for more.

When he got up, part of him thought, “let me just go check on her.”

She was curled into a ball on his bed, the sheets and blankets were made, and her small body slipped into them. She looked like she was sleeping. He let himself think she was sleeping. He sat down on the bed and smiled at her pigtails.

Pulling the covers off her a bit, he saw that she’d put on one of his shirts. Still, he could see her naked bottom peeking out from under it, then the thigh-high socks. He’d always had a thing for those socks. Something about how they made the thighs look even more naked.

His body tensed a little. The prettiness of her was visceral; it made him wince like taking a bite of something too sweet. He slid into the bed, curling around his ersatz daughter, and buried his head in her neck. She smelled like little girl soaps and fresh shampoo. His hands were hungry for her and wrapped around her thin waist.

“Daddy?” she said, playing groggy, but the game had become a reality to Jake.

“Shhh, I just wanted to see my little girl for a little tonight,” he whispered, feeling a creepy darkness coming over him.

She squirmed against him, but tried to act confused.

“Did you have a bad dream, daddy?” she whispered.

“I did, I needed to see my girl, but you have to be quiet,” he said, kissing her cheek.

“Mommy will hear?” she asked, breath catching from his kisses.

“Yes, daddy just needs his little girl for a little while tonight, but Mommy can’t know,” he said, now unable to keep himself from reaching between her legs.

“Daddy! You’re not supposed to touch there!” she still whispered in protest, but she couldn’t help but grind back against him.

Her hairless pussy was slick, and one finger pushed into her easily. Still, she was so tight he groaned, thinking of what it would feel like to push his cock into her again.

“Daddy,” she moaned and tried to keep up the role with more protests, “not supposed to! Don’t! Mommy is going to hear!”

Then, she very suddenly pushed him away and crawled as far away as she could from him on the bed. He stood, pulled off his jeans and shirt, then, after locking eyes with her for a minute, pulled off his boxers as well.

“Get the fuck over here. I’m not done with you,” he said, but it was the monster inside of him talking.

She was hypnotized by him, and forgetting she was supposed to say no, she crawled back to him and waited on her knees for his next command.

“Lay back down, just like you were,” he whispered again, and she did.

“Take off my shirt,” he added, and she pulled it off, but tried to cover her breasts.

He laid next to her again and wrapped his arms back around her. One hand pawed at her breasts, the other snaking between her legs. She tried to push him away, but he slapped her hands from his. His cock was pressed against her ass, and as they both shifted and wrestled in bed, it soon found its way between her legs and nearly inside of her wet cunt.

“Daddy, you have to put a thingy on or-or-or you’ll put a baby in my belly!” she said as she tried to pull away from him again.

The mixture of her little girl voice and what she was saying almost made him too turned on to listen to her, but he did turn and get a condom out of his nightstand.

With the condom on, he went back to pushing against her. He pushed her down on her belly and rolled on top of her so that he was laying with his belly against her back. Her legs squeezed tight to try and stop him, but he slapped her ass once, twice, then over and over until she was sobbing and her legs opened enough to let him in.

He fucked her like that, pushing her face into the bed and then grabbing one of her pigtails as his cock slipped in and out of her tight pussy, which was even tighter in that position with her legs closed.

Soon her ass was pushing back at him, and he groaned when he felt how deep he was inside of her. She was mumbling incoherently as her body started shaking with a massive orgasm. She kept whispering “daddy” over and over again as she came.

He got off her, pushed and pulled her around into another position, and then used her body again. He fucked her and came so hard the muscles in his stomach ached. He fucked her again and again, until they were both covered in sweat, gasping for breath and on the verge of passing out.

“No more!” she said as she peeled herself off of him.

“I’m too sore. I can’t take anymore,” she said, standing and looking at him with amazement.

“Jesus Christ, that was a lot of fucking,” she shook her head and went off to take a shower.

He wasn’t sure what happened, but his body became insatiable. Even after hours of fucking he was still horny. He watched her dry off and then get dressed from bed; confused about all that they had done, he watched her kiss him on the cheek and then leave, as if she just had a casual visit with a friend.

“We should do this again,” she said before she waved and walked out the door.

After Tiffany left, Jake was alone with his guilt again. Alone with his guilt and a bottle of Scotch. He drank, and he made a promise to himself that he wouldn’t see Tiffany anymore. Still, his body was aching and itchy with need. His cock half-hard, and his hand reflexively opening and closing into tight fists. His vision flashing with Tiffany’s naked body, the pictures he’d seen of Maddy, all the things he imaged both of them had done.

It was hardly eight when he passed out on the couch. The doorbell rang at just after ten.

“Yeah?” he yelled at the door as he walked to it, trying not to sound drunk.

“I can’t fucking do this, Jake. I can’t handle her. Not tonight,” it was Rachel, she was yelling through the door and she sounded furious.

He ran to the bathroom and took a swig of mouthwash, then pulled on a t-shirt and sweatpants and answered the door.

“It’s my anniversary, and it’s my fucking party, and she is ruining everything,” he heard his ex-wife say as he opened the lock.

“I don’t know what we are going to do, Jake. Therapy, boarding school, something. She was on my computer upstairs in my room while my anniversary party was going on! She was having cybersex or whatever you call it!”

Jake took a deep breath, trying not to slur his words. She started to say more, but he stopped her. Looking past her shoulder, he saw Maddy in the car. He waved her over, and she walked past her mother and into his arms.

“Go back home. Enjoy your party. I’ll take care of her, and we will talk tomorrow, or better yet Sunday night,” he took Maddy’s hand and pulled her inside.

“Have a weekend for yourself. We’ll figure it out after,” the world was spinning, but he was concentrating on sounding sober, awake, trustworthy.

Rachel sighed deeply. “Thanks, Jake,” she said, her face going from a mask of anger to almost crying.

“I’m sorry if I got too upset. Tonight just meant a lot-” she started, but he cut her off.

“It means a lot. It’s still early. Go enjoy,” he said with a smile.

She gave a weak smile back and turned around.

After the door closed, Jake almost fell down. Maddy helped him up and asked what was going on, but as soon as he tried to answer, she smelled the whiskey on his breath and sighed. She helped him back to the couch and sat down next to him and folded her legs under herself, and cried for a bit.

He petted her hair and remembered being her age. He remembered secrets and lies and sneaking around. Spin the Bottle and Seven Minutes in Heaven. Clumsy hands fumbling undershirts and skirts and down too-tight jeans.

His little girl looked sad and weary and scared.

“It gets easier, baby. I know there are a lot of rules right now, and you don’t want to follow them. I know you want to bust out and live your life. You are almost there. Just be patient,” he sniffled and pushed the bangs out of her hair. “You just need to be a little girl a little longer.”

Her bottom lip stuck out. Her huge eyes glistened with tears.

“You’re drunk, but I love you. I know daddy, I’m trying to be patient. It’s just there is nothing to do there. She locks me up in that stupid house. All I have is people I meet in class or on the internet, and I always end up doing–dirty stuff,” she whispered the last words.

He sighed. She buried herself in the crook of his arm, one leg wrapped around his leg and an arm around his chest. He must have passed out for another bit because when he awoke, she was still next to him, but she was only wearing one of his old t-shirts and her white panties.

In the fog of whiskey and the smell of her hair, he remembered the pictures he shouldn’t have looked at. Her body was soft and warm against him.

“I’m going to my bed,” he started, but she clung to him—her thigh pressing against his leg.

“No! You’re drunk and you’ll fall over stumbling across the living and,” she started to cry again, “I just want you to hug me,” she sobbed a little and her arm and leg around him tightened.

“Please, daddy, don’t leave me,” she whispered between tears.

Her mouth was on his cheek, then she buried her face in his neck. She squirmed against him, and he shifted and suddenly felt how hard he was. He twisted away so she wouldn’t notice, but she thought he was trying to leave her, and she held on tighter. She kissed his neck.

“It’s okay, daddy. Don’t leave me, please. I’ll do anything,” she whispered.

Then her knee brushed against his cock and they both froze. She moved her knee away, but she held him just as tight.

“Just hold me, daddy, please. I’ll be good.”

The wrongness of it all made him feverishly ashamed. The pictures in his head, from Maddy’s phone and Tiffany only a few hours before. Looking down at her pert breasts and how the low neck of her tank top exposed the swells of them. How her nipples poked out and how he could just barely see the outline of the areolas through the cotton.

“I got to go to bed,” he said and nearly threw her off as he tried to escape to his room.

She followed. She wouldn’t leave him alone. A moment after he collapsed in bed, she was there next to him, pulling the covers over them and cuddling up next to him. She’d stripped down to a t-shirt and panties, and Jake was so drunk for a moment he didn’t remember if she was Tiffany or Maddy.

She turned and pulled his arms around her, making him spoon her. He tried, pulling his hips back so that his raging hard cock was nowhere near her, but she pushed her little bottom back instinctively. His hardness made contact with her ass, and she froze again.

“Daddy?” The word was long and both a question and a statement of shock.

He didn’t know what to say, he tried to pull back more, but she pushed back again.

“It doesn’t matter, daddy. Just hold me tight. Please. It’s okay,” she kept whispering.

She pushed back again and his cock, still covered by his boxers, slipped between her legs, resting just under her panty-covered sex. She closed her legs around it and pulled her stepfather’s arms around her.

“Baby, let me go to the couch,” he begged, but she wouldn’t let go, and the motion of him trying to pull away both made his head spin and made his cock rubbing against his little girl.

For the first time, she grew still. They lay there, limbs wrapped up, hearts racing. Then he felt her hips move.

“Daddy, you’re drunk. I’m going to take care of you,” she whispered.

He didn’t know what to say. His whole being was guilt and want and conflict. She pushed her back and butt against him and squirmed and wiggled, her hair and then her neck against his mouth. Then she pulled his hand up to her breast.

He tried to pull away, he really did, but it was too soft and perfect. Her body molded to him, and he couldn’t stand it. Her breast in his palm was too much. All those moments, all of those stolen moments when he shamefully glanced at her breasts for years as they developed. All of those times, his subconscious strained to imagine exactly what they felt like, and finally his palm covered one.

He fought against wanting it, wanting her, but somewhere the drunkenness and the want took over, and he was grabbing her breasts roughly and kissing her neck.

She was playing a game with him perhaps, or just wanting some comfort, any comfort, wanting to connect with him, wanting to make sure he wouldn’t leave, but then his big hands were on her. He was touching her for real, like a man touches a woman. Hands on her breasts, fingers finding her nipples.

Her body was so different from Tiffany’s. Maddy’s breasts were large and full, and her hips were thick. When she turned to face him, he wasn’t sure what to say, but wanting to stop himself before he did something he would regret. Instead, he kissed her. He kissed her and turned her around and wrapped his arms around her, and gave into the monster inside of him again.

When she kissed him back, when she let go and melted into his embrace, it felt like the core of the world shifted. The darkest fantasy had become reality. Part of him wondered if it was a dream.

As they parted from their first kiss, he felt a stab in his chest like a knife. Pure guilt and pain. He was going to ruin it all. He pulled away, but she wouldn’t let him. The smell of her shampoo and faint perfume and just the scent of her was suddenly overwhelming.

She was so hot. Her skin on his was like fire fire. He opened her eyes and she met his gaze for a moment and then turned. She was blushing and her eyes shone. He took her chin and made her face him again.

“I’ll always love you. You will always be my girl.” There was silence.

“I’ve thought about this a lot,” she whispered.

He groaned, a short animal sound, then his hands were between her legs. Her cotton panties ripped easily. Then his hand was on her. He felt how wet she was.

It was smooth, just like Tiffany had been, but her cunt felt different. The lips were plump, her clit thick, and the skin powder soft. His fingers slipped against the bump of her clit and then the smooth hungry warmth of her cunt. It nearly sucked one of his fingers in.

“Daddy!” Her whisper sounded so confused. He thought he heard tears in her voice, but he couldn’t stop.

Her body melted into his. She pulled at his arms, rolling onto her back. He was suddenly on top of her. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed his stubbly cheek. She buried her face in his neck.

Then his mouth was on hers again, deeply kissing his little girl. His tongue swirling, his lips soft, but his stubble rough. Her fingers dug into his back as his arms wrapped around her, resting under her, hands clenching her ass.

As they kissed, Maddy suddenly whimpered loudly against her father’s mouth. His cock had pushed out of fly of his boxers and was pressed against her 

“Daddy you shouldn’t,” she whispered, but her eyes closed with the pleasure of his rigidness slipping against her clit.

“I’m just slipping against you, for a second,” he said, whiskey in his voice again and his eyes closed.

“Daddy! Fuck, I’m so wet, it’s-” but her words faded into a moan.

He was panting, hands still on her ass, moving and shifting. He didn’t want it to slip in, not really. He wasn’t trying to put it in. He thought if he twisted and turned and shifted, it might just slip in for a second, but then it wouldn’t be his fault. It would just be a mistake.

Then the head was inside of her again and she was wrapping her legs around him. They were both supposed to stop. They were never supposed to even start this, but then it was half in, and he was rocking back and forth.

“Daddy?!” her voice was high, and it just pushed him over the edge.

He pushed his cock into her. She pushed up against him and gasped into his next. And then he fucked his stepdaughter.

Hands on her ass, then her hips, he picked her up and pulled her against him. He fucked her eighteen-year-old body, his daughter’s body, and it was so dirty and hot he couldn’t even start to think of the ramifications. All he could think of was how beautiful she was and how tight she was and how wet and smooth and perfect it felt.

He looked down at her, her eyes closed tight, her mouth open wide, little gasps and moans. He felt her pussy gripping him. He wanted his little girl to feel everything, so he took her skinny legs and pushed them up, bending them so that her knees nearly touched her chest. He slowed and fucked her with long deep strokes, feeling every inch, angling his hips so that his cock pressed up, trying to find the spot that would get her off. He tried to keep going slow, but soon his hands were sliding down to her hips. He tried to take it easy, not to hurt her. He knew he needed to pull out before he came.

She started making quick little yelps, her body tensing, her face looking scared.

“Daddy, oh my god, daddy, I think- don’t stop, please, don’t-” and then as he tried to keep a rhythm, he felt her already almost painfully tight pussy squeeze and spasm as his little girl came on his cock. He slowed, but kept going, and he felt her even wetter by the time her body relaxed.

When her legs fell to her sides, he finally pushed the entirety of his cock into her cunt. He fucked her hard, and she gasped. He pulled at her thin shirt, annoyed that it hid her and it too ripped easily. He grabbed her breasts so tightly she cried out, but he couldn’t hear her anymore. She was just a cunt now, being used. Just tightness and wetness and so warm and smooth, and as he opened his eyes, he saw her staring up at him, her eyes filled with lust and hunger for more.

“Oh my god, daddy, oh my god, please, fuck me,” she said, her eyes unfocused as she let out gasps with every one of his thrusts.

He did, with everything he had he did. His head bowed down, pulling her hips to him and spreading her legs as wide as they went. He fucked her as she kissed his neck and chest. He fucked her as his body tightened, and he felt that explosion inside of him.

Then he came. It was an orgasm unlike any before in that his brain exploded with her words and the wrongness of the situation. He vaguely remembered screaming. At some last second, he knew he should stop, but it was too good, too much, too dirty and perfect. He shot his come into his little girl over and over until it was a wet mess, and he then kept fucking her. He kept fucking her until he started to soften, but he slipped in and out of her wet messy cunt until he hardened, and then he fucked her again, longer and harder, and came into her again.

Then he passed out. At some point, he had started crying.

In the morning, he woke up to sunlight burning his eyes and the sound of his shower running. For a moment, all he could think about was the pounding of his head but then, like an icy wind, his heart froze, and his throat tightened as he remembered what had happened the night before.

He’d done the unthinkable. He’d fucked his stepdaughter. He’d ruined everything.

As his mind started unfolding the horror of this, he turned to see his stepdaughter come out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel. She walked to him slowly, soundlessly. He watched her mutely.

She had a soft smile. A comforting smile. A crooked forgiving smile. He didn’t know what to make of it. She walked to the bed and climbed onto it. She let the towel fall. He saw skin still pink from the hot water and purple and yellow bruises on her breasts the size of his fingers.

She crawled to him on the big bed, and as he tried to say something, she shook her head. She knelt next to him and then swung a leg over his head and straddled his face. Jake didn’t understand. Then suddenly, all the world was gone, and all the confusion vanished, and all that mattered was smooth, freshly shaven, freshly showered pussy lips pressing over his mouth. Then the whole world was just the taste of water and the smell of soap, and then the saltiness of Madison’s cunt as his tongue found every bit of her and tasted every inch of her.

She squirmed and put both hands in his hair, pulling it hard and pressing her stepfather’s face towards the spots she liked. She whimpered when his tongue hit the right pressure, the right motion. She pulled his hair harder when he sucked at her clit.

When she abruptly got up, his face was hit with the cool air on his cheeks and chin, and nose which was all wet with her. She moved a bit so that she could look down at him, and she smiled brightly and ruffled his hair.

“I want a pony,” she said in the voice of a bratty little girl. It was the voice of Veruca Salt.

Jake looked up at her in total confusion.


She let out a long annoyed sigh.

“You fucked me,” she explained in a faux-dramatic tone of exasperation.

“I-” he tried to think of something to say, but his brain was broken by the ridiculousness of the comment.

“You fucked me, and so now I want a pony.”

“A pony?”

With that, she burst out laughing.

“I want a pony, and I want a car, and I want to sit on your face or your cock anytime I want,” she said, squirming back into his arms and rubbing her wet, hairless pussy against his flaccid penis, which was now almost painfully becoming erect.

“I want everything I want, and you have to give it to me, daddy,” she said in a little girl voice, crawling over him like a cat and pushing his hands away when he tried to hold her and slipping her knees on each side of his head and pressing her wet pussy right down on his stubbly face.

“Kiss it more, daddy,” Maddy demanded, reaching down and grabbing her stepfather’s hair.

His head still throbbed with a hangover, his body suddenly very awake and very aroused. He had no other choice than to lick the teenage pussy that was now covering his mouth.

It was only for a moment, though, as she turned around so that she was now facing his legs, and she pressed her pussy back against his mouth again, and he hungrily continued licking and sucking it and doing everything he could to taste more of her little girl cunt.

As he ate her, she pushed down on him, suffocating him for a few seconds at a time. Between these moments, he heard her whisper “daddy” over and over. When he felt like he could take it anymore, he felt the blanket pull away and then her hand on his cock. He was going to say something, but she covered his face with her pussy and ass again. All of that fresh, clean skin suffocating him as her hand was joined by her mouth.

Those lips, which hypnotized him for so long, felt so amazing closing around his cock he felt like his brain was going to short circuit.

He couldn’t figure out what to concentrate on, the pussy covering his mouth or her lips covering his cock. It all sort of blended together until he felt her start to come. She moaned into him, causing vibration on his dick. He bucked against his face until he couldn’t breathe, only lick.

Then he was coming into her mouth, and she squirmed and sucked and greedily gasped.

She turned, laid in his arms, and kissed him deeply, their faces wet and their tongues slick.

“We’ll talk about what happened at some point, but right now, can you just hold me?” she said into his ear, with a sudden tenderness.

“Anything you need,” he whispered back.

She sighed into his neck, and she knew it was true. He would do anything for her.

A month later she was crawling around on the floor again. “Daddy, where’s my phone?”

They were a few weeks into their new arrangement. Maddy’s mother obviously had enough, and so it was decided that Madison would stay with her stepfather for the remainder of the semester and then get on-campus housing.

Jake wasn’t exactly sure what he would do at the end of the year, but watching Maddy’s naked ass jiggle as she checked under the bed for that faithful pink phone, he knew he would have a hard time waking up without her in his bed.

He made them breakfast and listened to her hyper morning rundown of what she was doing that day. She’d finally figured out a way to concentrate on her classes and on her art. Jake was helping her and loving her and at least twice a day fucking her.

Just before she left, she came over and kissed him on the cheek.

“I’ll be home around four, and I can make us dinner,” she said sweetly. Then she leaned in closer and kissed his neck softly, and whispered, “then I can tell you about a friend I made at the coffee shop around the corner. Her name is Tiffany, and she said she knows you…”


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