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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 stomach 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 taut 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 tautly 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 gray 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 likethat, 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 nagging 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 into 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 taut 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.

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