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o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
o  	This part of my collection offers a very wide variety of  o
o  stories. They have been submitted by people from all over the  o
o  world.  Also from alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups). There is no    o
o  particular order other than offering them to you in  alpha-    o
o  betical directories.                                           o
o  	I don't believe in categorizing things. "I don't want to  o
o  be typed therefore I don't type things myself." I think it's   o
o  a lot more fun to browse around and find 'little' surprises    o
o  that you might not have even thought of looking for.           o
o   	Lest we forget!!!  This story was produced as adult en-   o
o tertainment and should not be read by minors.  Kristen Becker   o
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

First Fuck (M-fteen, inc)
by Anon NixPixer (c) 1994

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True Story:  The Stepfather - First Fuck
****************************************************************

My name is Terry and I'm thirty-three years old.  Not exactly in my
prime anymore, but I lift weights for at least an hour every day so
I've got a pretty good body.  I'm told I look something like Jean-
Claude whatsisface, the martial arts star, though I'm not quite as
muscular nor as handsome.  Still, I'm in fine shape for my age and
I feel even better.  I have more energy now that when I was sixteen.

Three years ago I married a woman who had an 11-year-old daughter by
a previous marriage.  One of the big draws for the marriage was that
the woman also worked out in the gym (I love cut women) and that she
was as horny as I was.  I mean, we fucked constantly, in just about
every place you could think of.  Despite the fact that we both
worked and that she had a kid to take care of, we managed to screw
each other two or three times a day nearly every day of the week. 
This was just about as close to heaven as I could get.

A woman like this is a rarity, and after a year of dating (and no
slowing down in the sex department) I decided to snap her up before
someone else did.  So despite my reservations about marriage,
fidelity, and sleeping with just one woman for the rest of my life,
we tied the knot and proceeded to settle down together.

I should make it clear that I didn't get married just for the sex,
though that was a vital component.  And not just because my wife was
beautiful.  I've had beatiful, horny women before and while I'd fuck
them day and night given the chance, I wouldn't dream of throwing
away my bachelorhood for them.  My wife has other qualities which I
absolutely adore, but I won't bore you with romantic drivel.

Unfortunately, one of those qualities isn't a sharp wit.  My wife
isn't stupid, not by any stretch of the imagination; she's just
average when it comes to overall brain power.  Having an informed
conversation with someone who takes what Oprah says as gospel is a
bit difficult, and can at times be frustrating.

On the brighter side, my stepdaughter is very intelligent and has
always been quite mature.  I quickly discovered, even before I
married my wife, that the girl and I (her name is Rachel) had much
in common and so we became fast friends.  We often did things
together that my wife wasn't interested in, such as seeing the
latest shlock horror films (the "Nightmare on Elm Street" series was
one of our favorites) or checking out the new selections at the
bookstore or messing around with the most recent computer games.  I
wasn't attracted to Rachel at this point, as she was only 11 when I
married her mother and I'm no child molester.

At first, married life was quite good.  Even better than being a
bachelor.  For the first couple of years my wife remained as horny
and as buff as she'd been when we were dating.  No problems, no
major spats, everything was pretty grand.

Then it happened, and I'm beginning to think that this is some sort
of women's conspiracy, because it's happened to all of my friends
too.  My wife stopped going to the gym regularly, and then dropped
her membership altogether.  Because she didn't work out anymore, she
quickly lost her finely toned figure and even put about twenty extra
pounds on her ass.  And though I loved her, I sure as hell didn't
love the cottage cheese and the ripples and the flab.  But I didn't
say anything, hoping that she'd take a good look in the mirror some
day and decide it was time to get back on track.

It gets worse, though.  Soon after my wife went out and bought a new
wardrobe to accommodate her expanding figure, her interest in sex
began to wane.  I mean, it really waned.  We went from two times a
day to once or twice a week so fast it made my head spin.  Then to
once or twice a month.  And this I did say something about, only to
have her tell me that now that we were 'comfortable' in our marriage
we didn't need to have sex so much.  And that if I truly loved her
I'd respect her needs and desires, etc. etc., and stop complaining,
you aren't a teenager anymore so don't act like one.

So, just because I'm past the age of thirty I'm not supposed to want
to fuck anymore?  What shit is this?  When I told a couple of
buddies about this, they just laughed and said 'welcome to the
married life, pal.  Time to start screwing your secretary.'  They
thought this especially funny, as my secretary is a man, not a
woman.

Months passed and the situation didn't get any better.  My wife
stabilized at about 25 pounds overweight (no tone at all) and sex
once a month.  I was dying the entire time, horny as hell and
wanting to fuck just about everything that moved.  I tried a number
of what I thought were subtle, romantic ways to rekindle the old
passion, to no avail.  Again and again I was told to 'live with it'.

My wife began to fill her spare time after work with mind-numbing
sitcoms like 'Cheers' and 'Roseanne', as well as the dutifully
recorded Oprah and Jenny Jones and whoever the hell else was on,
which left me not only horny but also more and more in the company
of my stepdaughter Rachel.  Stepdaughter by marriage only; you can't
really be a father to a child when you miss the first eleven years
of her life.

Neither of us could stand to watch what passed for entertainment on
TV, so we went to movies or down to the gym (Rachel had started
working out with me by this time) or loaded up a game on the
computer to play.  Often we just sat around and talked.  It was at
this point, when Rachel was thirteen and fast approaching fourteen,
that I realized that she was no longer a child but one hell of a
woman.

Funny that I didn't see it before, perhaps because she changed so
much in the course of a couple of years and I was pretty satisfied
with my marriage for most of that time.  Rachel had had gone from a
skinny little tomboy to a full-chested, slim-hipped, long-legged
beauty, both muscular and soft in a way that only the young can
really be.  And her face, brown eyes and shoulder-length brown hair
(my favorite), was just as fine as her figure.

This revelation first dawned on me one night when both of us were in
the hot tub talking.  Sounds erotic, I know, but it wasn't; we all
used the hot tub on a regular basis, and my wife and I hadn't fucked
in it for months so I didn't associate it with sex.  

It was night and there were no lights out on the back deck, but the
glow from a couple of windows made it possible to see somewhat. 
Rachel and I had been talking about the boys at her junior high, and
I started to tease her about it.  Things soon degenerated into a
splashing fight and during the scuffle she wrapped her legs around
my waist and tried to dunk me under the water.  She'd tried this
before on occasion, and now as then it didn't work.  I outweighed
her by about two to one.

So now this incredibly sexy and remarkably developed thirteen-year-
old has her legs wrapped around my waist, pressing her thighs and
crotch and absolutely flat stomache right into my body.  And failing
to dunk me she tries to tickle me instead, so I catch her hands and
pull them above my head, which pushes her taught young breasts right
up against my chest.  And our faces are about six inches apart,
we're both hot and wet and breathing hard, and I discover that this
is no child pressed up against me but a woman, I woman that I find
extremely attractive.

No, let's be blunt.  In that instant I knew I wanted to fuck her. 
I wanted to rip that tiny two-piece thing off her body and screw the
foreplay, just ram it home then and there.  Fuck her like a wild dog
in heat, nothing but hot passion and lust.  I wanted to hear her
high-pitched voice shriek in my ear when she came.

This all passed through my mind in the few seconds that we were in
this position, staring at each other, and then I felt my cock
starting to rise and my senses came back to me.  Before Rachel could
feel the effect she was having on me (my cock being right below her
crotch) I pushed her away and started the splash fight again to
cover up the awkward moment.

And my mind was racing.  Jesus, what kind of pervert are you?  You
want to fuck your stepdaughter, your vastly under-aged stepdaughter? 
What the hell would she think of you if she found out?  Christ, are
you some kind of monster?  A rapist or child molester?

This barrage went on all night, freshly stimulated each time I
thought about that moment that her body was pressed up against me
and the lust that boiled up so fast and furious it was primal.  This
despite the fact that I'm a psychologist and I know the most deeply-
kept family secret:  that fathers and daughters quite often want to
screw each other stupid, and that they do it much more often than
anyone suspects.  Hell, American society would collapse if it ever
became public knowledge just how many daughters and fathers, or
brothers and sisters, are humping each other and loving every minute
of it.

It would sure as hell put an end to shows like Oprah and Jenny
Jones.

Days passed and it appeared that Rachel hadn't marked the hot tub
incident as anything special, for which I was both relieved and
disappointed.  I resolved to try to keep my hormones in check,
though that was extremely difficult given that she, like most teen
girls, loved to dress in tight-fighting clothing.  Clothing which to
me was like a neon sign saying 'fuck me! fuck me!  I'm so young and
hot I'll make your head explode!'.

Several weeks later I was still struggling with my cock, which
gallantly tried to stiffen up every time I saw  Rachel.  One night
when she was out on a date, and my wife was glued to the tube (as
usual), I went into my den and booted up the computer to add
something to the secret journal I'd been keeping.  I was so confused
by lust that I couldn't remember where the hell I'd hidden the thing
last (I especially didn't want Rachel to find it), so I pulled up
the file manager and chose the 'view hidden files' option to see if
it'd pop up.

My hidden directory was indeed revealed, but so was something else
which I hadn't seen before, another directory named 'rdi'.  I jumped
into the directory and found a number of dated files with similar
mystifying names, and out of curiosity I opened the one with the
earliest date.

A few minutes of reading the text that scrolled out on the screen
shocked me with the discovery that I'd found, entirely by accident,
Rachel's diary.  Apparently she didn't trust to keep a normal paper
diary for fear that her mother might find it, and so knowing that
mom never used the computer she put it here.  She also thought it
well enough hidden to elude me, since the directory wouldn't show up
unless I accidentally unhid the thing, and then I had to notice it
was there and that it wasn't one of the many games we had loaded up. 
Seems that fate conspired against her on this one.

I pondered the issues of trust and privacy for all of, oh, about
five seconds, and then eagerly started to read the diary.

That first night, and on many nights thereafter (it was truly a long
piece of work, and Rachel added to it two or three times a week), I
found out some stuff that probably would've given her mother a heart
attack.  For example, Rachel had started the journal just after her
twelfth birthday, and she immediately spent many pages discussing in
detail her fantasies, lusts, and desires.  She also described -
vividly, I might add - how often she masturbated, and to what, and
her fondness for the massage shower head.

I thought Rachel a virgin, as did her mother, so I was stunned to
learn that she first got fucked just before her thirteenth birthday
by a 17-year-old boy that attended one of the local high schools. 
Though she thought the whole thing rather unsatisfying in comparison
to the massage shower head, she resolved to experiment regularly
thereafter.  And she did, with more boys than I would've thought
possible.  She went into excruciating detail on these experiences
and I lapped it all up eagerly, vicariously enjoying her sex life in
lieu of screwing her myself.

This isn't to say that Rachel spent the entire journal talking about
sex.  In fact, most of it had nothing to do with sex.  But for me
those were the most interesting parts.

About two weeks later I was getting to the point where I was about
a month behind the hot tub incident when I stumbled upon the most
interesting fantasy yet.  Interesting, because it involved me. 
Rachel went on about how she'd been lusting after me for awhile but
had been ignoring it, and about how powerful her orgasm had been
when she masturbated while thinking about fucking me.  This new
fantasy quickly became her favorite, guaranteed to get her off in a
big way.  She was quite open in her journal about the fact that the
incest element was an especially big turn-on for her, something that
made her hotter than anything else she'd thought up.  And she wasn't
remorseful or guilty in the slightest, which for some reason made my
dick so hard I thought I'd burst then and there.

Excited beyond reason I kept reading late into the night until I
came to the hot tub incident, the one I thought Rachel hadn't even
noticed.  But she had, at least on her end.  She told of how horny
it'd made her to wrap her legs around me, thinking that my cock was
only inches from her pussy, to feel the muscles in my chest and
arms, the thrill when I caught her hands and pulled her up against
me.  She said that at that moment all she wanted to do was to fuck
me, that the desire was so strong she almost begged me to screw her
right there in the hot tub.  But she had stopped herself, not
knowing what I'd do or think.

Several entries later I learned that she had since then been trying
to attract my interest in subtle ways, brushing up against me or
wearing tight clothes.  Just enough to catch my attention without
being brazen.  And I hadn't noticed.

But I had.  I'd noticed and thought the whole thing was my fevered
imagination, wish-fulfillment of the worst sort.

I couldn't believe it. For several months I'd been going through the
torture of frustration over my stepdaughter, not knowing that she
was doing the exact same thing over me.  Some psychologist I was. 
I couldn't even tell when a teenager wanted to ride my pony.

Still, this didn't give me the courage to try anything.  What if we
fucked and she thought it was a mistake?  What if my wife found out? 
What if she told a friend and it somehow made its way to the cops? 
God knows, I wanted to fuck her like there was no tomorrow, but the
fears and doubts managed to keep my dick in check.  At least, they
did until that next Saturday.

On weekends we generally sleep in to different times.  Rachel almost
always gets up around 8:00, while I generally haul myself out of bed
about a half hour after her.  My wife used to do the same, but she
now doesn't wake up until at least 9:30 or 10:00.  So this Saturday,
my wife was still in bed asleep when I got up, put on some sweat
shorts (I intended to work off some sexual frustration in my home
gym) and went to the kitchen to brew up some coffee.

Rachel was already there, as she usually was on Saturday mornings. 
An empty cereal bowl gave testimony that she'd already eaten, and
now she was reading the newspaper which was spread out across one
counter.  As was also usual before she took a shower, she was only
wearing one of those 'night t-shirt' things that younger women like,
the long shirts that barely cover their ass, and of course panties. 
Not little-girl panties, but those french-cut things which reveal
far more than they hide.  Must've given the neighbors a thrill when
she went out on the walk to get the paper.

She was bent over the counter, elbows resting on the paper, which
hiked her shirt up over ass and onto her back.  Her legs were
slightly spread, stretching the panties taughtly over her ass and
outlining her young, incredibly tight pussy.  When I walked into the
kitchen I stopped for a moment, for the sight was truly incredible,
almost posed, a 'take me now' stance that got my blood pumping.  I
thought about how many boys had enjoyed that pussy and how very,
very much I wanted to join their ranks.

Rachel heard me and glanced over her shoulder to smile and say good
morning, then went back to reading the paper.  Not changing her
stance at all, completely unaware of the effect it was having on me. 
Hormones clouded my brain, driving out the objections I'd been
wrestling with for months; during that moment I thought it better to
fuck her and have it turn out to be a mistake than to get old and
grey and wonder for the rest of my life what it might have been
like.  So instead of heading over to the coffee machine to make a
pot, I walked over to where she was, intent on taking her if it was
at all possible.

Still, I wasn't crude about it.  I didn't rip off her panties and
slam the meat between her legs.  Instead, I started to give her a
back rub.  Not exactly subtle, but not so blatant that it couldn't
be thought of as innocent in intent if things didn't go well.  I
still didn't know how far she was willing to go in reality, despite
my forbidden journeys into her diary.

"Mmmm, that feels good," she said, bending farther over the counter. 
This of course forced her ass up even higher, while at the same time
requiring that I move in so I could stretch to reach her shoulders. 
I was so close that my groin was ever so barely touching her ass,
and it electrified me.  My cock immediately swelled, fast on its way
to its full eight inches or so.

Because I was massaging her back with some force, her body was
rocking back and forth slightly, which resulting in her ass just
slightly rubbing up against my stiffening dick.  This was enough to
make it come to full attention, and of course the head popped out of
the top of my sweat shorts.  Eight stiff inches just won't fit into
a pair of shorts, even if they have elastic in the waist.

So there I was, nearly draped over her while massaging her
shoulders, the head of my cock responding vigorously to the feather
friction of her silk panties as they periodically came into contact
with it.  I was so fucking horny I thought that if this kept up I
was going to come just like that, shooting sperm all over her the
back of her oversized t-shirt.  And I was thinking "shit, man, I'm
almost inside of her, just pull back her panties and slide it in,
please, please, please!  You'll be fucking her before she (you) can
think twice about it!"

I almost did it.  The temptation was enormous.  But I couldn't, even
though her diary convinced me that she'd welcome it.  There was
still some naggling doubt in my mind someplace.

Instead, I started moving down her back, massaging lower and lower,
praying that she wouldn't turn around and see the head of my dick
staring back at her.  When I got to her lower back she arched up a
bit, spreading her legs even more and presenting her pussy in full
view.  I drunk it in like a man dying of thirst, and then I noticed
that her panties looked like they were damp.  A sign from the gods
if there ever was one.

                         * * * * * * * *

"To hell with it", I thought.  "It's now or never."

All of my inhibitions disappeared as my one hand went to massage a
silky thigh while the other crept around to caress her incredible,
hard abdomen.  I heard her breath catch in her throat, but she
didn't open her eyes or object or even look back at me.  I watched
the blood rush to her face, felt her skin warm beneath my hands.

As I slowly moved simultaneously for crotch and breasts, I pressed
my groin slightly against her ass and was rewarded when she pressed
back even harder.  My right hand found a breast and began to fondle
with unmitigated glee, while the left switched to the other thigh,
teasing her.  She responded by starting to rub her ass against my
cock, up and down.  I could hear her breath getting sharper and
faster and I was thinking that there is nothing, absolutely nothing
more glorious than a horny teenage girl.

More than a little overeager, I abandoned the thigh and moved
straight in for the honey, slipping my fingers past her panties and
into her moist cunt lips.  This time she did gasp, a high-pitched
moan quickly cut off, and I started rubbing the lips of her pussy
and her clit.  Her breathing became so loud it was almost a moan,
and I nearly groaned in response.

I was having a bit of trouble trying to fondle the other breast in
this position, so Rachel came up off the counter and pressed herself
into me standing up.  Her arms reached behind her and grabbed my
neck, pulling my head down to her lips and we kissed, hot and
passionate, her young tongue deep in my mouth, while her ass started
to pump even harder against my cock.  I slowly inserted a finger
into her hole, making her moan again, and I was thinking god she's
so tight, how am I going to get my cock into that fucking tightness?


The fingerfucking I was giving her was making her shudder with
pleasure, and since she was pressed up against me I could feel every
violent movement, every intake of breath, every half-cut-off moan
that escaped her lips between kisses.  Briefly removing my hand from
her breasts, so full and firm, I deftly slipped out of my sweat
shorts, kicking them away when they hit the floor.  This finally
freed my aching cock, and it sprung up and under her spread legs,
pressed hard against her cunt through her panties.  Rachel breathed
"yes, yes", rubbing her sopping pussy back and forth across the head
and shaft and making me moan in time with her.

The action was too much for me.  Being so close to fucking this 14-
year-old beauty I'd been fantasizing about for months, my own
stepdaughter, having her pressed up against me and knowing that she
wanted to screw me just as bad as I wanted her, blew away any
thought of further foreplay or gentleness.  I was consumed by a lust
of such power I'd never felt before, and I wanted to screw her long
and hard, I wanted to come inside of her and make her come whether
she wanted to or not.  I wanted to take her and drive her wild,
exhaust her with pure animal fucking.

But I couldn't do it standing up.  No matter how it looks in the
movies, I knew I couldn't keep my knees locked when the moment of
truth came.  I'd fall on my ass once I shot my load.

So I turned Rachel around, kissing her while I pulled her legs up
and around the small of my back.  She was so light, and she knew
right away what I wanted and jumped up so I could grab her ass. 
Almost ripping each others faces off with our lips and tongues, I
carried her out of the kitchen and through the dining room into the
living room, the closest place that had a carpet.  I knelt down,
almost falling, and put her on the floor.  She unlocked her legs
from my back and I pulled her panties off, roughly, tossing them
aside as I had my own shorts.  She quickly followed by pulling off
her shirt.

Seeing her muff exposed, I paused for a moment to stare.  She spread
her legs back and grabbed my arms, which I was using to balance
myself against the floor with, trying to get me on top of her.  She
almost whined when I didn't move.

She was tight.  So fucking tight.  You can tell how tight a woman is
by looking at the shape of her hips and crotch, and that determines
at least half of how good she is in bed.  Even with Rachel's legs
spread to either side of her there was barely any room at all
between her thighs, and again I thought, how the hell am I going to
get myself inside of her?  It wasn't the eight inches that was the
problem, that's not so much longer than the average guy.  But I was
quite a bit thicker than most men, and the woman in front of me was
tighter than any girl I'd ever been with.  It looked like my cock
was much thicker than her pussy was wide.

Now you're probably thinking so what?  Do her anyway!  But that's
not how I'm built.  The idea of forcing myself into her, ripping her
up with every stroke, was not one I especially enjoyed.  Hurting her
was not in the game plan.

I was on the verge of abandoning the whole thing, despite the
overpowering lust and Rachel's obvious desire, when she wrapped her
legs around my back and pulled down - hard.  I wasn't ready for it
and I collapsed on top of her.  Before I could move she shifted her
hips and moved herself under me, putting the head of my cock right
between her cunt lips, butting up against her hole.  I could feel
her lips stretching around the top of my cock, she was so very
tight.

The shock of actually having my dick so close to being inside of her
made me freeze for an instant, all thought driven out of my mind. 
Even this small contact was amazingly exciting and I couldn't think,
didn't want to think, of not going ahead with it.

'Do it, please, I want you.  I want you inside of me," Rachel
breathed, pulling down my head to kiss me.  Still I didn't move,
torn between not wanting to hurt her and not caring, so again she
took matters into her own hands.  With her legs around my back,
holding me in place, she pushed herself onto my cock, forcefully,
and the head slipped in to her hole.  She groaned loudly, and so did
I.

It was too late to stop.  No chance now.  She pushed against me
again, and this time I responded, feeling another inch slip into
her, and we were both panting and moaning and holding onto each
other so tightly that nearly every square inch of our bodies were
pressed hard into each other.

The pleasure was incredible, indescribable.  Never have I felt
anything so good in my entire life.  No fuck has ever come close to
this one.  With each thrust another inch went in, and because she
was so tight my cock was completely enveloped by her hot, silky
cunt.  She was grunting with each stroke, panting 'yes, yes' between
the animal noises of pleasure being ripped from her throat.  Her
soft, passionate cries, the high voice of a girl not yet entirely
deepened to that of a woman, only made me crazier, and I thrust
again and again until I was at last all the way inside of her.

With no thought anymore of holding back, I started to fuck her
slowly, pulling out about half way before thrusting myself all the
way back in.  Rachel's entire body was rigid, glued to my own, and
she was fucking me back, pumping her hips in time with me.  Her face
was red with lust, her eyes squeezed shut, her mouth held open by
the need to cry out her passion.  I could feel her taught thighs
clenched tightly against my hips, her ankles crossing at the small
of my back, her fingers digging hard into my shoulders, the shudders
of pleasure rippling through the tense muscles of her abdomen.  My
dick was crying out with the need to come, but I held back, wanting
this moment to go on and on and on, wanting to fuck her sweet young
body forever.

And so I fucked her and I fucked her, and soon we were moving
faster, and oh god the muscles of her cunt were getting even
tighter, and I could feel her pussy lips stretching every time I
pulled out partway.  Her cries were getting louder now, and I dimly
realized that mine were as well, and some vague portion of my brain
was trying to tell me that if we got any louder than that my wife
would hear it even halfway across the house in a bedroom with a
closed door.  And I didn't give a shit.

I was fucking my 14-year-old stepdaughter and I was loving it more
than anything else I'd ever done.  Nothing in the world could be
better than this.

We were grunting and groaning and slamming against each other pretty
hard and I knew that soon I'd come whether I wanted to or not, and
soon she would as well, when the living room window shuddered.  We
both simultaneously came to a halt, our eyes shooting to the window
and then to each other.

For some odd reason, when the door to the master bedroom is opened
it makes the living room window shudder.  Even though it's several
rooms away and none of the closer windows are affected.  So when the
window rattled we both knew that the door to the master bedroom,
where my wife was sleeping, had been opened.  That meant that my
wife was up and had left the bedroom and was even now walking down
the first hall to the junction of the second.

It was already too late to move.  Even if we both got untangled as
fast as we could, Rachel wouldn't have enough time to get her
panties back on before her mother came walking down the second
hallway and into the dining room, which was next to the living room
and had a full view of it.  There wasn't any chance in hell that I
could get into the kitchen and pull my shorts back on, much less get
rid of the most rigid hard-on I'd ever had in my life.  I'd have to
cross through the dining room, putting me and my swinging dick in
full view of anyone walking down the second hall.

Rachel and I both knew this, and we both knew that we were in deep
shit.  So we froze right there on the living room floor, my dick
buried to the hilt in her, not knowing what to do.  Any moment my
wife would walk in and see her husband caught in the act of screwing
her underage daughter which, seeing as how her daughter was wrapped
around her husband as closely as she could get, was something the
daughter was obviously enjoying quite a bit.

We both stared at each other, holding our breath, not moving as my
wife's footsteps came down the hall.  Since we were laying on the
floor one of the couches blocked my wife from seeing us until she
left the hall and stepped into the dining room.  So we had several
seconds of heart-stopping fear to experience before the gods smiled
upon us.

Instead of walking into the dining room and ending our lives, my
wife turned from the hallway into the bathroom and closed the door. 
Which I should have realized she'd do, since she had, more and more,
become a creature of habit.  And with a sigh of relief I knew what
would come next.  We weren't going to get caught.

Rachel immediately tried to move, a difficult thing since I was
effectively pinning her to the floor.

'Hurry, before she sees us!', she said, unlocking her legs and
pushing against my chest.  I held on to her firmly, pulled my cock
halfway out, and thrust slowly back into her.

'Oh god!' she moaned softly, trying to keep quiet.  My wife started
peeing in the background. 'What are you doing?  Get off before she
comes out!'

'Shhhh', I whispered, thrusting into her again.  Convulsively she
groaned and her legs came back up around my back.  'She'll take a
shower after she's done.  Don't worry.'

'Terry, stop! - uhh!', she said, again trying to push me off.  Her
body must've been giving her mixed signals, because her legs were
still around me and her hips thrust down against my cock.  'Please -
 oh christ! - stop!'

'Not a chance,' I whispered, grunting myself as I sank my cock all
the way in again.  'You don't want me to.'  I thrust again and she
arched against me.  'Don't worry."

Despite the fact that she was fucking me back as hard as I was
fucking her, she was still trying to push me away.  So I took her
hands and forced them down to the floor over head and held them
there.  And I started to fuck her faster, listening with rapture as
her breath speeded up again, tearing from her throat in half-cries
as she desperately tried to keep quiet.

My wife stopped peeing.  The toilet flushed.  We stopped fucking
again and I said 'listen.'

There was a moment when we couldn't hear anything over the flushing
toilet, then the noise of the shower being turned on, water
splashing noisily around the bathtub.  We heard the shower door
opening, a pause, then it closed again.

I looked into Rachel's eyes, letting her hands go.  'What did I tell
you?'

She didn't say anything for a moment, just looked at me breathing
hard, then she smiled and replied 'You're a lunatic, did you know
that?  We could've been caught.'

'Yeah, and that makes it all the more exciting,' I said.  'Still
want to stop?'

She grabbed my shoulders, pulling me down and kissing me.  'Fuck
me.'

So I did.  Oh, god, I fucked her.  With my wife in the shower,
knowing that she couldn't hear squat past the water, Rachel became
louder, her voice even higher pitched than it was before.  She
thrust against me hard, so hard it was almost painful, and I drove
myself into her with enough force to rock her hips back even though
I was pinning her to the floor.  We moved faster and faster, groping
and moaning and pulling at each other, Rachel so tight around my
cock, so hot and wet that I thought I'd die inside her young pussy. 
I could feel the tension mount in my balls as her cunt started to
contract, and she arched up, pushing me off the floor, crying out as
she came, crying out again and again, her pussy spasming against me,
and it was too much, god too much, and I came with her, shooting my
cum deep inside of her.  Each time I thrust her little girl cries
echoed in my ears, and I shot load after load into that wonderful
pussy, felt the violent shudders of her orgasm tear through her
body, her hips bucking against mine, her hands tearing into my
flesh.

I've never come so hard in my life, never so hard as I did into my
14-year-old stepdaughter.  And never have I loved it so much, in
part because she was 14 and my stepdaughter.  The incest, the
forbidden fuck, made it all the more explosive, all the more mind-
blowing.  The incest and the fact that she way underage, and I was
an old man compared to her, and I had made her come good and hard
and she had wanted me to make her come.  That she loved the idea of
her stepfather shooting off in her, that she wanted to fuck her
stepfather like a bitch in heat and that she had, with her mother
only thirty feet away in the shower.  God, I can't tell you how
exciting that was.  There's absolutely nothing like it in the world.

The orgasm seemed to go on forever and for a long moment I think I
half lost consciousness, my brain unable to take such pleasure
without shorting out.  When my vision returned I saw that Rachel was
still coming, still gasping as the orgasm rolled through her, so I
kept pumping her hard until she was done.  She came for a long time,
much longer than I've seen any woman do it before.

Finally, both of us breathing hard and still holding onto each other
for dear life, covered in sweat, we stopped and looked at each
other.  The sight of her flushed, sweaty face, the heat of her body,
was almost enough to get me started again, and I dimly realized with
some surprise that my dick, still all the way inside of her, wasn't
getting limp at all.  Could I keep fucking her without waiting to
recover?  It was an exciting thought.

Rachel giggled and kissed me, long and slow, then said 'that was so
good.  God, it was so good.  It's never been like that before.'

I smiled at her and kissed her back.  We spent a few minutes lashing
tongues, laying there on the floor, my cock still rigid inside her
pussy, and I was starting to really believe that we could just keep
on going.  Rachel's breathing was getting faster again, which of
course got my own heart rate up, but before I could think about
starting to fuck her the shower went off.  And this time we did jump
up and put on our clothes as fast as we could, but not before I
grabbed Rachel, frenching her hard and saying 'I can't wait to do
that again.  You were incredible.'

She grinned before she ran off to her room to change her clothes,
and I trotted for the gym, a plausible excuse for looking so sweaty
and heated should my wife come looking for me after she dried off. 
Which she did.

And all the time I was talking to my wife while she toweled off her
hair and I was doing bicep curls, I was thinking about the best sex
I'd ever experienced in my life.

God, I really can't wait to fuck Rachel again.

