Stepdaddy's renown as a man of Ietters (hebephilic and pornographic) has led many to seek his wisdom through the years, leading to the establishment of the "Dear Stepdaddy" advice column. Please feel free to pen your own queries; Stepdaddy will respond in this column, or privately if you so request. Your letters are assumed to be just as fictional and tongue-in-cheek as the examples below. You can find his stories and poetry here.
Dear Stepdaddy,
I've been an avid reader of your stories and advice for years. My stepdaughter and I used to quarrel endlessly and pointlessly. I had no idea how to straighten out my relationship with the churlish teen. But then, your writings showed me the way, and today my penis and my stepdaughter's fourteen-year old pussy both thank you. My wife enjoys the household peace, although of course she has no idea of its source.
As you know, Christmas is just around the corner. Brittany is going to give me a tie as her "cover" gift and her anal cherry as her real gift (just thinking about it gives me a Woodrow). I'm perplexed as to what to do for her. If she were a grown woman, jewelry or perfume would be what I'd do, but kids today really seem to like all their electronics. Any ideas?
--Yearning for Yuletide
Dear Yearning,
I'm glad to hear things are going better in your household. Just another case to prove that the best way to tame a bratty girl is to simply fuck some respect into her -- both parties end up a lot happier.
I have just the thing for you to give her for Christmas. You are right, kids just love their electronics these days -- smart phones, iPads, gaming systems, and you name it. Let me share some success I've had in finding well-received gifts along those lines.
Every Christmas Eve, my wife's sister hosts a big fancy dinner. Usually, the extended family exchanges gifts after dinner (a German tradition, my wife's side) and then we head to church for Midnight Mass (a Catholic tradition).
Last year, after a wonderful dinner, while the younger kids were tearing through wrapping paper, I gave my fifteen-year-old niece by marriage, Tabbi, a wink and a head jerk that told her to meet me in the finished basement.
We both made our separate ways to the vacant space and I couldn't stop her from dropping to her knees and unbuckling my trousers. I let her slurp away for a couple of minutes before I interrupted her.
"You're such a good girl, Tabs, and I'll let you finish that later, but I brought you down here to give you your gift. Bend over the armrest, onto the couch."
I flipped up her skirt and pulled down her tights, to see her waxed cunt already glistening. I couldn't help but give it a couple of licks before slipping her present inside.
"Oooh, what is that, Uncle?"
Instead of answering, I pulled up her tights and flipped her skirt back down. "You'll see. You have to keep that in there at least until we get home from Mass. Now let's head upstairs before someone misses us."
As I followed her swaying little bottom up the stairway, I flipped a switch on the controller I held in my hand. Tabbi gasped and fell back into my arms in surprise and delight. I had just activated the remote-controlled vibrating egg inside her pussy, at maximum strength. After a few seconds, I switched it off.
"Oh my God, that was amazing! But you have to promise me you won't do that in front of my parents."
"I promise you no such thing. It will go on, and off, as I see fit. You'll find that it has various modes -- pulsing, soft and sweet, strong and obnoxious. It's up to you to keep from drawing suspicion by trying to control your reactions. And it makes some sound, so keep your pussy clenched on it to muffle it, as best as you can."
Needless to say, manipulating that control in my jacket pocket was a delight throughout the rest of the evening: the instant she entered the crowded family room a surprise pulse almost brought her to her knees; when her other uncle, whom she loathes, caught her under the mistletoe I treated her to a very conflicted sensory experience; as she drove us, per my suggestion, to church (she has a learner's permit), she kept her hands at ten-and-two but still couldn't keep from swerving a bit in response to my signals; and of course, as she squirmed throughout the mass in both expectant anticipation and in vibrational agitation; the hard pew seat seeming to reflect the vibrations back up into her pelvis, while the kneeling bar displayed her discomfited bottom wonderfully.
Being such a large group, we sat in two pews, and naturally I chose a spot right behind her so I could fully appreciate her gyrations during the Elevation of the Host. I'm a bit ashamed to tell you that we both accepted Communion, despite being in such an immediate state of mortal sin.
Anyhow, she was in a much jangled state by the time we all returned to her home. She asked my wife (her aunt) if she could spend the night with us, and watch our younger kids open their presents in the morning (English tradition -- my side). Of course this permission was granted, and while my wife went to bed, exhausted, Tabbi stayed up with me to assemble some of the kids' toys.
You won't be surprised to learn that I actually already had them about 95% assembled, so after a reasonable delay to ensure the rest of the household was settled in for their "long winter's naps", I finally removed Tabbi's gift and fucked her incredibly wet and overwrought vagina to a fare-thee-well.
So there you have it, Yearning. A gift that is both electronic and appropriate for the relationship you and your stepdaughter now share -- a remote controlled vibrating vaginal egg. Just a couple bits of additional advice -- get her a "cover" gift, too (clothing store gift cards are nice) and be sure to lay in plenty of extra batteries!
--SD