My Stepfather’s Punishment Novel – I could feel his eyes watching me as I crossed the kitchen. I sat down at the table, smiling sweetly up at him, and leaned forward to grab the syrup from across the table, pressing my breasts against the wood, my cleavage on clear display. “Here, Mia.” My mother set down a plate of pancakes in front of me. She looked down at me leaning against the table and shook her head. “What did I tell you about wearing such low-cut shirts, Mia? You’re not a little girl anymore.
Men are going to look at you.” I know exactly what I’m doing, I thought. And I know exactly who I want to look at me. I looked up at my mother. Her hair was in a bun on the top of her head, her makeup perfect, her business suit ironed and immaculate. As she walked away, her heels clicked across the tiles of the floor. I picked up my fork and speared a piece of pancake. As I lifted it to my mouth, I raised my eyes and caught my stepfather staring at my chest. He looked up hurriedly and frowned. I smiled and slowly put the pancake between my lips. “Mmm,” I groaned. “So good.” My stepfather looked back down to his paper. Though he pretended to be reading, his eyes weren’t moving and I knew he was trying not to look at me. I reached back across the table for a napkin and watched as his gaze flitted up for a second to my cleavage. It was a good morning for my girls.
I hadn’t milked them in almost twenty- four hours and they were taut and swollen with milk. My pale breasts were practically spilling out of the top of my tank top, and I could feel my nipples hard against my bra. I glanced down and noticed with satisfaction that they were poking through the fabric. “So,” my mother said, clicking back over to the table. She sat down with another plate and forked a piece of pancake into her mouth and chewed it a few times. “What are you two going to do this weekend while I’m away?” It was the first weekend of the month, and as always, my mother was leaving town for a work trip. With my friends out of town for the summer holidays, there was nothing for me to do but to hang out at home with my stepfather. Which was fine by me. “I don’t know,” I said. I looked over at my stepfather. “What do you think, Daddy?” My stepfather, Jack, cleared his throat and folded the paper.
“I’m not sure,” he said. “I have a bit of work to do, so I’ll be in and out of the house.” “Well, make sure you two spend some time together. Mia’s only home from college for another two weeks, and then we won’t see her again until next summer.” “Yeah, Daddy,” I echoed. “Let’s spend some quality time together.” My stepfather pushed himself up from the table and grabbed his plate and mine. He walked over to the sink and I followed him across the kitchen with my eyes. He was wearing a light blue cotton button-up and a dark pair of chinos that gripped his ass nicely. My mother downed the last of her pancake and stood from the table. “Okay,” she said, wiping her hands on a rag. “Time for me to go.” She leaned down and pecked the top of my head and then walked over to my stepfather. He turned around from the sink where he was rinsing dishes and she wrapped her arms around him and he leaned down and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. “Goodbye, honey,” she said. “Make sure to behave yourself.” My mother walked out of the kitchen side door, picking up her suitcase as she passed by. My stepfather resumed doing the dishes and I listened as my mother started the car in the driveway and pulled out.
When the sound of the engine had disappeared down the street, I stood up and walked over to my stepfather. I wrapped my arms around him from behind, running my hands up his chest and hugging myself to him, pressing my breasts into his back. The pressure eased out a bit of milk, and I felt the front of my shirt grow wet. My father stopped washing the dishes and held himself still. “So, Daddy,” I cooed. “It’s just you and me. What do you wanna do?” My stepfather broke away from me and walked across the kitchen, grabbing his car keys off the hook on the wall. I could tell by the way he was walking that he was half-erect, and he stood facing slightly away from me to hide it. Chapter 2 “I, uhh, need to go to the store,” he said. His eyes flitted down to the two wet spots on the front of my chest and he swallowed heavily. “I’ll be back in a little while.” “Okay, Daddy,” I said, pouting my lip. “But don’t leave me alone too long. I get lonely.” My father said nothing and walked out of the door.
I heard our other car start in the driveway and pull out into the street. Suddenly the house was very quiet, the only sound my breathing. I sighed and ran my hands down my body. “You can resist all you want,” I said, with no one but the empty house to hear, “but this weekend you’re going to fuck me.” My stepfather had been in my life for as long as I could remember. A few years after I was born my real father had left and my mother had gotten remarried quickly to a somewhat younger man. Jack was only 38, almost 10 years younger than my mother. He was a self-made man who had started a company when he was fresh out of college, becoming a millionaire by the time he was twenty-five. When he met my mother, he was already “retired” and traveling the world. In the bar that they both happened to be at during one of my mother’s work trips, Jack had been sitting by himself when my mother had come in after a long day. Something about his eyes, my mother had told me when retelling the story, had prompted her to approach him and strike up a conversation. Not long after, they were married. I had grown up thinking Jack was my real father, which, after puberty, had led to a lot of feelings of guilt on my part. I couldn’t explain it, but from the time I was interested in boys the only man I had ever thought of had been him. Even when I began to date the boys in my classes, I could not get him out of my mind. At night, it had been his hands I imagined caressing my body as I touched myself. But, as I said, I didn’t know for a long while that Jack wasn’t my real father. Instead, I had just kept my fantasies and my desires to myself. But then on my eighteenth birthday, Jack and my mother had sat me down and confessed the truth.
Afraid I would be upset that they had kept it a secret from me for so long, they had been surprised to find me relieved. I no longer felt any guilt for whatever desires I had for Jack. And that night, as I touched myself, a plan began to form. What had been merely desire up until then was going to turn into reality. Two years later, here I was home from college for the summer holidays, sitting in the living room contemplating the moment when I would finally feel him inside of me. In the two years since finding out that he was only my stepfather, I had done all I could to seduce him. So far, nothing had come of it. But, with my mother gone this weekend, I knew that the moment had finally come. How did I know? Because it was obvious that he wanted me too. I could see it in the way he looked at me, at the way his eyes took in all the young, tight curves of my twenty-year old body. And I also knew that my mother and him were not happy, which boded well for me. In the ten weeks I had been home, I had never heard nor seen them having sex. And I had been on the lookout, even sneaking out of my room at night to listen at their door. No, all they seemed to do these days was fight or ignore one another.
This morning had been a unique respite from their quiet struggle. As I sat on the couch, running my hands absentmindedly up and down my body, I thought over my options. I didn’t think it was going to take much. I had already caught my stepfather staring at me many a time. As the summer had progressed, I had begun to wear smaller and smaller clothes, showing off my breasts and ass, walking by him and bending over or sneaking up from behind and hugging him. I had even let him catch me changing once or twice, leaving the bathroom unlocked and standing there naked until he had come in for one thing or another, quickly apologizing and leaving. Of course, he never left without getting a good look first.