Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Title: Hannah's Hot Tub - Part 1
   Summary: Married man finds his red-headed stepdaughter very hard to
resist.
   Keywords: stepfather, incest,stepdaughter, hot tub, fingering, wife,
ourdoor, tight, guilt, remorse
   Hannah was twelve when her mother Debbie and I first got together and
only two years older when we were married.  Her parents had divorced when
she was only three and her `real' father now lived in Toronto with his new
wife and a gaggle of younger British-Canadian kids.  Hannah hadn't seen him
in years.
   The last time she had gone to stay she had felt so awkward with his new
wife clearly resenting her presence in the house.  Their two kids had been
far too young to be company for Hannah and the experience had not been
repeated - to the disappointment of no-one other than me.
   As a result, being an only child of a single Mum, Hannah had grown up
seeing Debbie, her Mum more as a sister than a mother; in truth there was
only an eighteen year gap between them anyway and the two were extremely
close when yours truly first came on the scene.
   Debbie and I had been introduced at a friend's barbecue party one warm
summer day.  Both damaged divorcees in our thirties, she and I had
surprisingly hit it off straight away and Debbie had accepted my suggestion
that we meet for lunch later in the week.  Over the coming few months,
lunch dates had become dinner dates; quick kisses goodbye in the doorway
had become slow kisses in the hallway and eventually one wonderful morning
I woke up in Debbie's bed with her naked body alongside me.
   Within three months we had moved in together and less than a year later
we were married.
   It should have been a happy ending or a new beginning, but our attempt
at playing `happy families' was seriously marred by Hannah's behaviour.  I
suppose in retrospect, this was entirely predictable.
   Hannah took after her Scottish-born father both in appearance and in
temperament.  A natural redhead with pale, slightly freckly skin and deep
green eyes, she was tall and slim to the point of skinny, a situation that
made her rather self-conscious and which changed little as she passed
through puberty.
   She had a fiery Celtic temper to match and used it to the full on those
of whom she disapproved - which in most cases was me!
   When I was merely a visiting boyfriend I was tolerated with cool, almost
excessive politeness.
   When it became clear that her mother and I were sleeping together this
changed to bad tempered grumpiness and long silences when I was with them
both.
   When I actually moved in with them this became almost open hostility,
manifesting itself in ways as trivial as deliberately not setting a place
for me at the table; hiding my car keys (eventually found under her bed)
through acts of increasing seriousness all the way to teenage temper
tantrums and on one memorable occasion the cutting in half of all my ties
for a supposed slight I had given her over breakfast.
   "She's just trying to get your attention," Debbie would say.  "And mine
too.  It's only to be expected.  She'll grow out of it!"
   In my opinion she couldn't grow out of it quickly enough but I bit my
lip and kept my mind on my lovely fiancée, as Debbie was at the time.
   Debbie was, of course, quite right.  Hannah did improve considerably,
but not gradually as expected.  No.  to our joint amazement she changed
dramatically almost overnight.  Looking back, the key moment in her
transformation, to our surprise, was the one time we thought she would be
at her worst - our wedding!
   Because we had both been married before, we didn't want a long,
drawn-out engagement in which Hannah could create disharmony, but did want
to make it a very special event for us both so invited a lot of family and
friends to a large wedding breakfast.  Hannah at first grudgingly agreed to
be a bridesmaid and for most of the time maintained an air of bad tempered
grumpy co-operation but as preparations progressed and the day approached,
she seemed to start actually enjoying the whole process.
   It certainly helped that the colour scheme was chosen to suit her.  I
wasn't allowed in on the plan but when the day finally came and my family
and I arrived at the stately Edwardian Registry Office for the ceremony I
was completely gobsmacked when my stunning wife-to-be and stepdaughter
arrived in the bride's father's cherished Jaguar.
   Debbie's figure-hugging mid-thigh length cream dress was trimmed with
pale jade, the same colour as the flowers she carried; even her long blonde
hair was trimmed with pale green ribbon.
   A better looking Spring Bride never was seen!
   But my mouth truly fell open when Hannah stepped out of the car behind
her beautiful mother.  She looked simply stunning in a close fitting very
short sleeveless green dress which matched her mother's to perfection and
showed off legs of a length I had never dreamed she possessed.  If she had
been blessed with boobs it would have shown them off too.  Her red hair had
been brushed till it shone and was trimmed in the same green ribbon her
mother wore.
   I positively floated through the ceremony - partly on a raft of
champagne, but mostly in disbelief that I could be such a lucky man - and
emerged with a ring on my finger and a broad smile on my face.
   But what really put the icing on the cake was that, when Debbie and I
returned from our honeymoon, it was to a step daughter transformed - sweet,
happy and beautiful.
   That doesn't mean that the next few years were without their challenges.
No indeed!
   Apart from the usual `discussions' about homework, TV and the balance
thereof, there were the inevitable `girly' arguments about make-up (too
much), dress style (too tight), skirt length (too short), heel height (too
high), fake tan (ridiculous on a freckled red head!), party hours (too
late), unsuitable friends (too disreputable) and, of course boyfriends -
although there were surprisingly few of these.
   To be honest, I stayed well away from most of these issues, leaving
Debbie to lay down the law as she saw fit.  It was cowardly I know but the
two of them had been so close it made my position difficult.
   And then there was the issue of privacy.
   As Hannah maturated physically if not emotionally, it became
increasingly difficult to move around the house without being embarrassed
or causing offence.
   Sometimes she would sit cross legged casually watching TV either in her
underwear or with her skirt up around her waist.  I didn't know where to
look!
   Sometimes the bathroom door wouldn't be properly locked allowing me to
accidentally walk in on her in the bath with consequent embarrassment and
resentment.
   On other days, her bedroom door would be left ajar as she got changed
with the same result - trouble for me.
   As she grew older and taller so her skirts became shorter and shorter
and she continued walking round the house dressed only in her underwear as
if she was still a child which made my position very difficult indeed.
   Thank God her boobs remained tiny - a fact I knew only too well after
walking unsuspecting into my own bedroom one evening to find the newly
eighteen-year-old Hannah flagrantly bare-breasted, trying on a new dark
blue bikini in front of her mother.
   Needless to say I was not popular that night either, but over time we
reached an acceptable, if sometimes tense way of living and life carried
on.
   ***
   In the spring, just after Hannah's eighteenth birthday, Debbie and I
decided to treat ourselves and bought a hot tub for the garden.  What with
the famously bad British Summers, this was a risky purchase but we had been
hankering after one since our family holiday in Portugal the previous year.
The villa in which we had stayed was on a complex which included, amongst
other things, a sauna, a steam room and several hot tubs.
   Neither Debbie nor I had cared for the first two items (Debbie said they
ruined her hair) but we had both really loved the feeling of hot bubbly
water around us in the fresh air.  Hannah had loved them all of course but
had particularly liked the hot tub and had stayed far too long until her
fingers pruned.
   We decided we just had to have one for ourselves!
   Our garden backs on to woodland and is very secluded.  There was a space
just large enough directly across the patio from the dining room doors
where a tub could go, entirely hidden from the neighbours and, with
judicious placing of trellis, also hidden from most of the windows in the
house.  So, when we came home we raided our savings, hit the credit cards
big-time and placed an order.
   The tub arrived soon afterwards.  It was round, deep, blue on the inside
and had an underwater bench seat around most of the perimeter.  For a week
or so it stood in its plastic packaging on the patio but eventually the
workmen arrived and it was installed just in time for the long weekend
holiday; an Easter present to us all.
   It was a great success from the first day.
   From the moment my wife crossed the patio in the sunshine dressed in a
white bikini, her shapely body stepping nervously but sexily towards me, I
knew I was going to love it.  We floated and chatted and touched each other
under the water for a long time, my erection huge but blessedly concealed
beneath the bubbles.  The first time she stepped out of it, the water
cascading from her lightly tanned body, her hair dark and falling down her
back, I fell in lust all over again.
   I lost count of the number of times Debbie and I made love in the tub
over the next few months; sometimes on the wooden seat to the side,
sometimes beneath the water.  Hidden from prying eyes and especially when
Hannah was away, we tried every idea that came to us.
   It's amazing how long a man can hold his breath if he's giving a
beautiful girl oral sex under the water.  It's amazing how long a girl can
stay submerged with a man's cock in her mouth.  Debbie's favourite trick
was to strip off her bikini bottom under the water and straddle me as I sat
on the submerged bench, teasing me cruelly as she lowered herself down onto
my erect cock, taking control, riding me like a professional and rising on
her knees if I was naughty enough to try and thrust upwards.
   It brought a new and exciting dimension to our already very active sex.
   Unfortunately, when she was home, my stepdaughter Hannah tended to
monopolise the tub which put a severe damper on our aquatic adventures but
with imagination we managed and in all, the tub was an inspired purchase.
   ***
   It was a few months later and we had been celebrating.  Debbie had just
been made a Partner in her law firm - quite an achievement at her age - and
we had asked a few friends round to help us mark the occasion.
   The evening had gone well with champagne flowing, drinks and food in the
garden and a great chance for us all to be glamorous for a while.  Debbie
had looked stunning in a short black cocktail dress, even Hannah had made
an effort and had squeezed into a tight fitting green number that suited
her colouring well and showed off her astonishingly long, skinny legs to
powerful effect.
   This effect was not lost on our guests, male and female, many of whom
respectively admired and envied her youth and unselfconscious
attractiveness.  I was amused to see how on several occasions she found
herself flirting unintentionally with some of the older men but to my
surprise, none of the younger lads.
   The evening passed happily; Debbie was seldom the centre of attention so
at first was a little uncomfortable being the star of the show but a after
few glasses of champagne and a large dose of obvious goodwill she was
happy, relaxed and enjoying her good fortune.
   As midnight approached and the air began to cool, the guests began to
leave and the three of us began to relax, especially our new Junior Partner
who by now had obviously enjoyed at least one glass of champagne more than
was wise.  Both she and Hannah were complaining of tired legs after three
hours in ridiculously high heels and we all looked longingly at the hot
tub, quickly coming to a unanimous decision to leave the clearing up to the
morning and rushing inside to change into our swimming costumes.
   Two minutes later, the three of us lay back in the hot water listening
to the low hum of the motor and feeling the strong jets massage our legs
and backs.  Debbie had changed into the tight white bikini that accentuated
her womanly curves and I loved to see her wearing.  Hannah had donned her
one-piece swimsuit, green of course, which tended to highlight the
skinniness of her body and her near-absence of breasts and made her look
much younger than her current eighteen years.
   The warm water lapped around the three of us, the slow, atmospheric
music that had been playing most of the evening seemed louder and more
enveloping now that the guests had gone.  I raised the plastic safety-glass
of champagne to my lips and took a long sip, smiling as both Debbie and
Hannah did the same.
   "To our new Junior Partner!" I said, toasting my gorgeous, capable wife
for the umpteenth time that night.
   "To Mummy!" Hannah chorused, her words a little slurred.
   "Just how much have you had to drink tonight?" Debbie asked her daughter
in amusement, her own words slurred too.
   "Just about...  enough," she replied cheekily, grinning and stretching
out her long legs.
   "Ouch!" I giggled as her toes collided with my inner thigh.
   "Oops!  Sorry!" Hannah raised a hand to her mouth in mock horror and
brought her knees up under her chin so they stuck up out of the water.
   A moment later I felt Debbie's feet on my lap and began to stroke her
calves and ankles beneath the bubbles as we tried to spot the
constellations in the clear blackness of the sky above.
   A short while later I felt Hannah's feet join her mother's and I stroked
them both absent-mindedly, feeling the effects of the champagne.  Debbie
was clearly feeling it too because I could see her eyes closing in the low
patio light, then opening wide in surprise as her face dipped into the
water.
   "I think our new Partner needs to go to bed," I said after this had
happened for a third time.
   "What?" she asked, her voice definitely slurred.
   "It's bed time, Debs," I smiled.  My wife sighed.
   "I suppose you're right.  I can't keep my eyes open.  But what about...
all this?" she asked, waving her hand at the general untidiness in the
garden.
   "Hannah and I will bring it all inside tonight.  We'll clean up together
in the morning.
   "Sure you don't mind?"
   "Certain, right Hannah?" The ginger head nodded eagerly.
   "No problem Mum, leave it to us," she smiled.
   "Thanks you two.  I'm SOOOO tired!"
   Placing her hands on the tub's rim, Debbie lifted herself upright and
climbed unsteadily out of the water.  It cascaded from her womanly body
making her skin look life damp velvet.  I felt a swelling in my shorts as I
watched her steady herself on the patio.  She shivered momentarily in the
cold air, then pulled a bathrobe around her and slipping on her flip flops,
swayed towards the house.
   "I think someone else has had `just enough', too!" I laughed.
   My lovely wife turned and, sticking her tongue out at us, flounced away,
closing the back door behind her.
   "I hope she doesn't lock it," Hannah said.  I grinned.
   "We'd look like two prunes if we stayed in here all night."Hannah
grinned back at me.  "Oh well!  I suppose we'd better get on with the
tidying up then," I said, preparing to stand up.
   Suddenly Hannah's hand was on my arm.
   "Not just yet," she insisted.  "Let's finish our drinks first.  It's too
cold to get out now."
   Smiling, I lowered myself back into the steaming water and raised my
legs so my heels rested on the bench at the far side of the tub.  Hannah
lifted her legs so that they rested across my upper thighs.  I tickled her
feet playfully.
   "Don't!" she laughed.  "No please, don't!"
   I stopped tickling her and let my hand rest on her slender ankle which I
began to stroke absent-mindedly under the warm water, sipping champagne
with my other hand and listening to the silence on the night; a silence
broken by the occasional owl hooting in the forest in the dark distance.
   Hannah slid herself around the tub's bench seat until she was sitting
close up to me, her legs still across mine.  I could feel the back of her
thighs on my lap but thought nothing of it.  My hands which had been
stroking her ankles were now close to her knees and without thinking, I
began to stroke her lower thighs instead.
   "I love the first few weeks of summer," she said softly.  "It's so... 
exciting!  As if...  anything could happen!" Her voice was low and slightly
slurred as no doubt was my own.
   "Just how much champagne HAVE you had?" I laughed and immediately
regretted it as her beaming face turned to a frown.
   "I'm not a child, you know," she countered, her body stiffening.
   " I know," I said quietly, patting her thigh under the water.  "It's
just hard to keep pace with the way you've grown since I first met you all
those years ago."
   "You're not that old yourself either," she said strangely, wriggling
closer to me on the bench and putting her legs right across mine.
   An eerie silence descended, punctuated by more owl cries.  Unconsciously
I stroked further up her thigh with my fingertips.  She wriggled a little
more.
   "Sorry.  Does it tickle?" I asked, my hand moving away from her leg. 
She grasped my wrist and pulled my fingers back onto her thigh.
   "It's nice.  Sort of soothing too though," she replied and the silence
fell again.
   The tub's motor came to the end of its cycle and stopped.  The dark
silence was eerie and after a minute I pressed the button again.  The water
jets resumed their pleasant pummelling of my back and thighs as, without a
conscious thought passing through my mind, my fingers slowly and gently
resumed their stroking of Hannah's knees and gradually continued their
unconscious travel upwards along her slender thighs.
   In short, smooth movements my fingertips lightly danced over her warm
skin, which felt soft and smooth under the hot water as her thighs became
thicker and softer closer to her waist.  The turbulence from the jets
swirled around my fingers and I felt Hannah's pale, skinny arm slip around
my shoulders.
   "Are you ok?" I asked in a whisper.
   She simply nodded as in the darkness of the water my fingers moved
gradually but inexorably along her thigh towards the hem of her costume,
unconsciously sliding deeper between her thighs as they progressed without
resistance.
   The jets stopped again and the night became spookily silent, neither of
us speaking a word but I could clearly see Hannah's lycra-covered breasts
rising and falling close to my chest in long and deep, rhythmic breaths.
   My dancing fingers casually slipped deeper between her thighs.  To my
astonishment, I felt her legs open slightly as if to allow better access to
her forbidden core.  My fingers slipped deeper until the back of my hand
brushed against her inner thighs.  I stroked the soft skin beneath my
fingertips.
   Suddenly I was aware of a low, breathless moan in my left ear.  I turned
my head to see Hannah, her eyes now closed, resting her forehead gently and
submissively on my shoulder.
   To my horror I realised that my fingers were now gently massaging the
crotch of her swimming costume and that she had unquestionably spread her
legs to make room for me.
   I froze.
   "Mmm!  Don't stop," she whispered in my ear.
   "But..."
   "Shhh!  It's ok.  Please..."
   Amazed and confused, I began to massage her soft, young pudenda through
the gusset of her tight swimming costume; like a clumsy teenager on a first
date, but with an adult's more experienced touch.  Something within told me
this wasn't what I was supposed to be doing but the champagne was doing its
job and Hannah's undoubted willingness kept my misgivings to the back of my
mind.
   As I explored the contours of her vulva beneath the tight-fitting
material, I felt her body tense then relax and the arm around my shoulders
tighten and loosen as my fingers did their work.  I ran my fingertips
lightly into the crease at the top of her thigh, feeling my way along the
costume's elasticated hem before carefully beginning to work the tip of one
finger underneath it.  A moment later I could feel her tightly curled soft
pubic hair under my fingernails.
   Hannah breathed heavily into my ear as my finger wormed its way further
under the tight cloth until I felt the heat of her wet slit.  She gasped
softly and I paused as if expecting her to halt my progress but instead,
she simply let her knees fall further apart.  With the slightest pressure,
I pushed the costume's gusset to one side and gingerly slid the tip of my
middle finger into her hot, damp slit.
   She gasped as my fingertip passed along the length of her outer lips and
I felt her arms tighten around my shoulders.  I quickly wriggled my
fingertip further inwards, sliding it up and down her short, hot slit until
I found the entrance to her hottest, deepest place.  I paused, feeling her
arms trembling slightly round my neck, making certain she really was
offering no resistance then ran my fingertips more firmly up and down the
length of her warm slit, from its base deep between her thighs, over the
mouth of her vagina and up to the tiny nub of her clitoris and back.
   "Ohhh!  That's lovely!" she breathed into my ear.
   The faint voice at the back of my mind told me that this was already too
much but Hannah's obvious pleasure once again drove the thought from my
mind and I fingered her more, gently but firmly, feeling the tension in her
body grow.
   "You like this?" I whispered into her ear.
   "Mmmm yes!  Don't stop!"
   I traced the inside of her outer lips with my fingers once again then
boldly pushed the tip of my long middle finger into her vagina.
   It was tight; very tight; very, very tight; resisting my progress but
she felt so, so hot.
   Part of my mind screamed at me to stop; to try and undo the damage I had
already done but another, more dominant part told me to press on; that she
was enjoying it; that she really wanted me to do it; that she wasn't really
my daughter - it was all ok.
   As if on cue, I felt Hannah's legs fall even further apart and my finger
immediately slid into her body up to the first knuckle.
   "Ohhhh!"
   She moaned, a strange sound; pleasure mixed with something akin to
triumph.  I pressed my finger a second knuckle deeper into her vagina.  It
clamped hard on my hand.
   "So tight..."
   I murmured then began to move my finger round inside her vice-tight
passage.  After a moment I felt her loosen a little.
   "Please...  don't stop..."
   Her words were intoxicating.  Pushing all remaining reservations aside,
I began to finger my stepdaughter's vulva with as much care and caution as
my increasing passion would permit.  My erection now painfully tangled in
my shorts, Hannah couldn't possibly fail to feel it pressed against the
back of her legs as my hand slipped completely inside her swimming costume
to cup her entire mound.
   The angle was awkward and the tight elastic must have hurt her leg but
neither of us seemed to care.  Emboldened, I thrust my middle finger deep
into her extraordinarily tight vagina, turning it back and forth then
hooking it upwards within her body in a half instinctive attempt to find
her g-spot.
   "Ohhhh yessss!"
   Hannah's words were whispered close into my ear and I redoubled my
efforts despite the tangle of Lycra around my wrist.  Curling my finger and
working it in short, fast movements I found the small rough patch behind
her pubic bone that I had been searching for and ran the tip of my finger
across its surface over and over again.
   Hannah's pelvis writhed and flexed against me, the elasticated hem of
her costume all but cutting off the blood to my hand but I kept on
fingering her, all thoughts of impropriety driven from my mind.
   I felt her whole body flex, a strange choking noise escape her lips then
her teeth biting hard into my shoulder as a powerful shudder pulsed through
her body, followed by a second then a third.
   "Are you two going to stay there all night?"
   Suddenly, reality burst in upon me as my wife Debbie's voice boomed from
an upstairs window.  Her words were still slurred from the evening's
drinking but their effect was as if a bucket of ice had been thrown over
me.
   I pulled my hand away from my stepdaughter's body as if it had been
burned.  Hannah squealed softly into my ear and her legs tightened together
in involuntary protest as if trying to keep my fingers in place, but the
erotic magic of the previous few minutes was broken.
   "Oh my God!" I croaked, half paralysed by the shock of what had happened
- and what might have happened.  "Just finishing our drinks Debs!" I called
up unconvincingly to the face at the window.
   Hannah's body was still trembling, though whether this was the aftermath
of her orgasm or fear of being discovered by her mother I couldn't tell.
   "Well don't be too long," Debbie called in a stage whisper, "it's lonely
up here!"
   The sexual innuendo was obvious.  In other circumstances it would have
been embarrassing both to me and to Hannah but our mutual guilt prevented
any such feelings.
   "Saved by the bell!" my stepdaughter whispered ambiguously in my ear.
   Hannah carefully, almost reluctantly removed her leg from my lap and,
standing and turning slowly began to get out of the tub.  I watched as she
pulled her swim suit down over her partly exposed pudenda and wriggled
until the elastic lay where it should have been before stepping onto the
bench and out of the not water, which cascaded steamily from her lithe
body.
   She stepped onto the cold wooden decking and pulled a bathrobe around
herself.  I followed a little behind her, shivering.
   "You go on up to bed!" I said, unable to look her in the eye.  "I'll
clear up here."
   "I could help," she protested.
   "I'll do it on my own!" I snapped then immediately regretted it.  "Sorry
Princess.  I didn't mean to shout."
   "It's ok...  Daddy," she replied.
   I was amazed.  Hannah almost never called me Daddy.  She crossed to the
doorway and turned.  I raised my head, still barely able to look at her.
   "I mean it's ALL ok, ALL of it, understand?" she said, looking me
straight in the eye.
   And with that she blew me a kiss and skipped upstairs.
   Drying myself as best I could with Debbie's damp cast off towel, I
pulled on my own robe and gathered all the used glasses and bottles from
the garden and into the kitchen.  I left our three champagne glasses beside
the kitchen sink and, locking the back door, joined my wife in our big
double bed.
   Debbie was fast asleep, as expected.  I listened to her breathing as I
lay awake for what seemed like hours, racked by feelings of guilt at my
behaviour, shocked that Hannah had let me do it and apparently enjoyed it,
terrified at what had nearly happened and what might still happen if Debbie
found out.
   ***
   I didn't sleep at all well that night, or the next few nights, plagued
with feelings of guilt, bafflement at what I had done and with a terrible
dread that Hannah had in some way `set me up' as one of her terrible games.
Every night when I came home from work I half expected Debbie to be there
waiting for me armed with accusations, Hannah behind her with that evil
triumphant grin on her face.
   However, after nearly two weeks without the sky coming down around my
shoulders, I began to accept that Hannah really did think it had all been
ok and I gradually began to relax a little.  Nevertheless, I still tried to
avoid being alone with my stepdaughter and avoided using the hot tub
altogether to the extent that Debbie began to ask why I had agreed to buy
it in the first place if I wasn't going to use it and wondered jokingly who
she might get to accompany her into the water instead of me.  From then on
I made sure that I was available whenever my wife wanted to relax in the
tub and things began to return to normal again.
   It was clear from the looks she occasionally gave me that Hannah
believed she and I now had a shared secret but there was no sign that she
was even thinking of letting her mother in on it.
   Her behaviour however became even trickier for me, with her choice of
clothing being the main cause for concern.  Her short skirts became, if it
were possible, even shorter; her tight tops even tighter; her absence of
bra even more obvious through the tightly stretched material of her shirts.
Her bedroom door was left ajar on more occasions as she changed and
sometimes even the bathroom door was left open too.  On a few occasions
when her mother was out, she even came downstairs after a shower or bath
with only a short fluffy towel wrapped around her.
   I didn't know where to look; certainly I had no idea what to say.  It
was increasingly difficult to avoid seeing far more of her than I was
comfortable seeing and hiding my consequent unavoidable arousal from both
Hannah and her mother was becoming tricky.  I even began to go for long
runs or to the gym on the obvious occasions when the two of us would
otherwise be alone in the house, but to no avail.
   I simply could not get that girl out of my mind.
   pics---->> http://bit.ly/1D1q3qp
  
Hannah's Hot Tub Part 1