If you’ve spent five to ten minutes on any porn site (for whatever reason), one of the most prevalent themes that you can’t not see is the stepmother/stepson or stepfather/stepdaughter relationship that is on every page. Along with tags like MILF, Ebony, PAWG and everything else there (I’m stopping here before you start to think I spend all my time on porn sites).
And of course, like the young mind I was when I started watching porn, one of the questions that was always on my mind was “Is this real??” “Can this happen in real life??”. I was always secretly wondering I knew anyone who had had that experience with their stepparent or some other type of debauchery and depravity. But I wouldn’t have to wait too long to find out about these things.
I was sixteen when my mother died. Of course I wasn’t immediately concerned about whether or not a stepmother would come in later. My thoughts were first about who would cook for us and who would wash my brothers’ clothes and who would drive us to school.
It was a jarring experience really, and in the days and months following the event, I learnt to cope with it. and I thought my brothers did too, until we started getting calls from their school about their truancy and their affinity for violence and destruction of school property. Apparently, they were not handling it well at all. My dad reduced his workload to be at home more often so he could oversee them, we always had our cousins who we thought would be positive influences staying over. We took church more seriously, and even considered changing their schools at one point. Nothing seemed to work permanently. They would always revert back to their saucy and aggressive and destructive ways.
It continued like that for a few years with nobody having any idea on how to deal with it, until I went home for the holidays after my first year in university. Almost immediately after I got home, my dad was telling me that we had to talk. we had to have an important conversation and if I hadn’t already been on my way home from school, he would have called me home just so we could have the conversation.
We had the conversation that same night, and the bottom line was simple. He was going to get married again. His reasons were simple. A mother figure might help to control my brothers a little before they were too old to correct, and he would have more time to focus on work and make more money to support the family. Also, he was still relatively young. He needed companionship too.
It was a conversation that took the air out of my chest, but I knew he was right. His reasons were very valid and I agreed with them. He told me he hadn’t yet asked the lady to marry him, but they had both talked about marriage and she had been open to it. It was Aunty Lola. My mum’s friend that had doubled her presence in the house since mum died. I liked her, she was cool. And apparently my brothers were friendly with her too. Everything was settled. They got married later that year. A simple, quiet court affair, and she moved in.
I can’t tell how much she did to correct my brothers when she moved in because I was always in school, but at least my dad seemed happy whenever he came to see me, and I got less calls about my brothers’ latest escapades. Either they had softened up, or they thought not to bother me again. Either was fine by me.
Aunty Lola was happy too, she never bore any resentment to me or my brothers. She never used inappropriate language on any of us, in fact after a while, it actually started feeling like she had always been the one taking care of us. It felt like she had been there all along. It felt like she was our mum.
As time went however, things began to change around the house, especially between me and Aunty Lola. Whenever I was at home, she was always extra nice to me. Little things that couldn’t be explained. We had a washing machine and I could wash anytime I wanted, but she made sure that she came into my room and packed all my dirty clothes and washed them for me. She would return them folded. My food was always top pick in the house, and she spent so much time with me. She rarely ever got angry with me and she always seemed interested in what I was interested in. On the tv, on my phone, in my room, wherever. She always wanted to know what I was doing and she wanted to be a part of it, but I didn’t think much of it.
The day I knew something was going on was the day she came into the bathroom while I was bathing. She came in with her towel wrapped around her chest and wearing nothing else. She came in and took in the fullness of my body before she took the bowl that she had come for, taking more time than she should have taken, considering that she even shouldn’t have been there in the first place. I just stood there staring back at her. It was later that I realised that she had not only come to check me out, she had come to show me her body too. and yes, I noticed it. Why wouldn’t I notice it?? with how light she was?? or her long legs?? or the way her body jiggled with each movement she made?? I would be lying to you if I said I didn’t notice it, or if I said it didn’t have an effect on me.
That episode came and went, but the next one was not so far behind and it was a bathroom experience too. this time, it was hers. My brothers had gone to school and my dad had gone to work. We were the only two people in the house when her phone started ringing. I ignored it at first and let it die, but then it started ringing a second time. Then I went to pick the phone and give it to her in the bathroom where she was having her bath. I knocked and told her her phone was opened before I cracked the door open to pass the phone to her.
And what was her reply??
“Open the door properly and give me the phone, it can fall down the way you’re holding it carelessly”
So I Opened the door properly and went into the bathroom to hand the phone to her. Of course she asked me to wait till she was done with the call so I could return the phone to where it was charging.
And of course, the call was a long one, so I just stood there waiting for her to round up and hang up, trying my possible best not to look at her, but I was in a toilet/bathroom, there was nothing else to look at.
Funny enough, she didn’t try to cover her body. In fact, I think she wanted me to look at it. She held the phone to her right ear and her left hand was across her head, covering her left ear entirely. I had a full side view of her cleanly shaved armpit and her drooping breasts and the rest of her body glistening with water and suds all over. Then she did this thing where she slowly shifted her weight from one foot to the other. her breasts swayed and her thighs and her behind jiggled. It was a marvelous sight that made my throat dry.
Eventually, she ended the call and I left the bathroom. you can be sure that throughout that day, that was the only thing I could think of.
Following that day, she did all kinds of funny things around me. Like slapping my ass and squeezing them when no one noticed. and when it was just us at home, she always dressed in the least amount of clothes. she was always just in her bra and panties and this was how she did all the house chores she wanted to do. Sometimes she didn’t bother with the bra. Sometimes the pant was a g-string.
At first I was uncomfortable, but then I realised that she was toying with me. she wanted me to react. to make the first move on her. But that wasn’t going to work. because I realised that if she was toying with me, I could also toy with her. I started wearing minimal clothes too. I started slapping her ass too. I spent more time in her room when my dad was around and did everything else I could think of. I could mess with her just as much as she could mess with me. It was simple as that, and it worked for me.
And of course she cracked first.
She came into my room a week before I was supposed to resume to part four. It was cold and dark and the thunder was endless. my brothers were on holidays too, so they were allowed to sleep in the parlour and watch tv all night. my dad had travelled for work and wouldn’t be back until some time when I was already in school. it was just me and Aunty Lola that were inside the house and not in front of the tv.
I was lying on my bed under the blanket, ears plugged in and watching a movie on youtube. I did not see or hear her as she entered. I only felt someone pull the blanket off of me and get under it too. She settled in beside me and I could feel her hot breath on my neck. Her legs somehow getting intertwined with mine and her hand coming to rest on my chest
“What are you watching?? Let me see too”
So I let her see. I gave her one ear of the earpiece too.
I appreciated the warmth. Her body heat was softly warming me up and making the blanket even more cozy to be under. She would snuggle closer to me every few minutes and I didn’t mind honestly. It was really cold.
I did not however realise that she was not necessarily moving closer to me for her own interests. Not until she started kissing my neck and she put her hand under the shirt I was wearing to grab my breast and squeeze my nipple.
My phone nearly fell out of my hand the first time she did that. I felt the sensation in my chest, and at the back of my head, and in my groin, and in my jaw, and everywhere else.
It hadn’t been just a squeeze and release, she had squeezed it like she was in bed with an old lover and she wanted the feeling to be as intense as it could be and for it to drag on for as long as possible. And maybe it was the cold or it was the games we had been playing before then, but I wanted more. I wanted her to touch me more.
I turned around and tackled her till I got on top then I kissed her mouth with a vengeance. Her mouth tasted like the fried fish we had for dinner. Salty and fishy and sloppy. Extra sloppy. She produced so much saliva that it was hard not to swallow some. As she produced it and pushed it down my throat, it got even harder not to get turned on. My whole body was on fire and I wanted more.
our tongues swirled and slid off each other. She pushed her fluids into my mouth and down her throat and I pushed mine into hers. The whole process was very intense. She sucked on my tongue till I couldn’t take it, and I bit her lip and stretched it out till it couldn’t go any further. I licked her face and the sweat on it and she left hickeys on my throat and on my jawline.
the blanket was too heavy to remain on us. I flung it off. I was straddling her now. The only thing illuminating the room was the light from my phone and the yellow light from the security light outside. The light wasn’t bright enough to do a photoshoot in, but it was bright enough for me to see that Aunty Lola was wearing one of my Dad’s t-shirts with no bra, and now that she was on her back her breasts looked flat, but I knew it wasn’t flat. it was anything but flat.
I helped her out of her shirt and the sight of her chest, golden coloured by the light streaking in, was something that became etched in my mind. I went down and attacked the one on my right. The moan that escaped her lips and the way her hand immediately found the back of my head just made me want to suck it harder.
her nipples were dark brown and her areolas were small, but her skin tasted like you would imagine it to taste like and it was hard to let go of it. I moved my mouth to her right breast and my hand stayed on the left one, teasing and flicking and squeezing.
her moans were barely a whisper now, but I still kept going.
And then I stopped.
I kissed her and pushed my tongue down her throat as far it would go. When I separated from her, there was a line of saliva connecting between our mouths. From there, her vagina was next.
Undressing her was easy. Her big shirt that she wore around the house covered the fact that she was wearing only panties underneath. But now that she was in my bed and her shirt was off, it was easy to get the white pant off and start running my tongue all over and inside her. She shook, screamed, pulled my hair and even locked her thighs over my head, but I wasn’t letting up. I wanted to get her off, and it was going to happen.
She didn’t squirt, but she let out a creamy whitish substance from her vagina and I lapped it up and sucked on her clit a little more before I stood up and took off my own clothes. I had given her pleasure, now it was my turn to receive.
My tank top went off and the bum shorts I was wearing went off too. she reached out for my breast, but that was not what I wanted. I wanted to sit on her face. I wanted to feel her tongue in me while buckled my hips to the pleasure of it. I wanted to use her, I wanted to make the object of my gratification, I wanted to turn her face to my bicycle seat. And that was what I did, and I didnt stop till she was running out of air and tapping my thighs to let her breathe.
I still wanted more. I moved down and positioned our openings against each other. The pleasure was good, but it was a little frustrating that I couldn’t get more. I wanted more, and grinding clitoris against clitoris was only going to do so much, but I didn’t know that then. I just kept grinding harder.
After the session, she would tell she loved it, but she hadnt expected me to be that aggressive in sex.
it was during the scissoring that it actually dawned on me that I might be a lesbian, and that my first partner was my Dad’s wife and my stepmother and the realisation actually kind of turned me on. I grinded harder till I got my orgasm and rolled off her panting.
We continued till I had to leave for school, but we always picked up after I came back home. I had one partner in school too, and she showed me where to buy dildos of different kinds.
I had my main girl in school, and I had my incestuous relationship at home.
It was perfect for me, until I graduated and moved out of home and started meeting other girls too, but that is an entirely different affair…
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