I had just given my stepdaughter Paula a backrub, and I know she had felt my hard penis pressing against her hand as she laid her head on my lap, and she seemed to have really, really enjoyed her backrub. The last thing I had said to her the night before was that I was just going to do laundry the next day.
I woke up last, my wife Jeri had left for work early. Paula had school and work, so by the time I got out of bed around 9AM, the house was empty. After brewing a pot of God’s nectar, and sipping on my first cup of the greatness that is coffee, my thoughts turned to last night’s episode. I sat at the kitchen table with my mug, and replayed everything over in my head. What was I doing? What if I am totally misreading the situation? If I am, then what, and even more importantly, if I am not misreading it, what do I about it, and what do I WANT to do about it? I pondered everything for a while, considering the consequences of action, considering lust vs love, betrayal vs trust, physical affection vs sexual contact.
I poured a second cup of glory, and knew in my head that the fact that I was even having to think about it, it was wrong. Yes, my body felt different, and my heart felt an attraction and a love on top of the physical lust of the body, but logically I knew this could never happen, for the good of everyone. That being decided, I got up and started to get motivated. I needed to get some laundry done, hit the store, maybe go work out, and plan for dinner. I checked the fridge and freezer for dinner options, and made a list of things for the store. Time for laundry!
I go to my closet to get my laundry basket (I do my own laundry – I don’t trust anyone else not to shrink or ruin my clothes, a leftover habit from my mom. Thanks, Mom!) and notice the door is not closed all the way. That’s odd. I remember tossing my soiled shirt from last night on the top of the pile in the basket, and closing the door before heading to bed last night. The first thing I notice is that shirt is now balled up, and laying on the floor next to the basket. My mind notes, “that’s weird, must have rolled off the top somehow” and I reach down to pick it up and put it back on top. As I lift the shirt, I notice a movement of something pink drop out of the shirt. A pair of panties. I also smell the aroma of Paula’s perfume on my shirt. Well, I WAS giving her a backrub last night, but this seems too fresh and strong to be just a residual from that event 12 hours ago. My mind races in confusion as I reach down with my left hand to pick up the panties. I life them, like any red-blooded male, towards my face, and my nostrils pick up an entirely different aroma. “Oh God,” I think. “No way…” I inhale deeply through my nose. Way.
All of the previous hour’s logical thinking went out the window, as my brain took a completely different path from logic. For one, there is no misreading this situation. Paula is definitely offering or enticing my arousal, for what end I have no idea. Playing or learning sexual advances safely? Testing her limits with me? Is she just fantasy playing? Is she interested in a full sexual relationship, or is it just a teasing, “look but don’t touch too much” fun thing? Or, is she trying to exert control over me by using my arousal for her against me or her mom, or both? At the same time, I am thinking how to respond to this situation. Do I “play” back? Either by washing them and give them to her saying, “these smelled a little dirty, so I washed them for you” or by returning them without washing, and leaving a “present” of my own on them? Or just wash them and tell her, “I think you left these in the dryer” as if it never happened? She wouldn’t have put them there if she wanted the third option, and my mind was telling me to respond and see where it goes. After all, it’s just clothing. That’s what I tell myself. As much as I wanted to leave her a “present”, I needed to get some stuff done today, and masturbating into Paula’s panties probably wasn’t the most productive way to spend my morning. I put a load into the washer, changed into gym clothes, hit the gym and ran for about 30 minutes. I hit the grocery store on the way home, and picked up a few things for dinner. I got home, moved the clothes into the dryer, and threw in the second load, put away the groceries, and flipped on the tube while I waited for the washer to stop so I could use the shower without competing for water pressure. The joys of older houses.
After showering, I chilled for a few hours, trying to think of all the ways I could say the right thing to Paula when she got home, without being overly creepy, but more playful. I reconsidered my actions a few hundred times, and figured I would probably chicken out when faced with it, anyways, so stopped worrying. I began to prep dinner, and still had the laundry folded on the kitchen table when Paula got home.
“Hi Daddy!” she smiled at me in the kitchen as she came in from the side door off the driveway. I smiled back, “Hiya, Dear! Good day?”
“It was OK,” she responded. “A little stressful, not too bad, though!” I saw her eyes look over to the table and see the folded clothes there. I thought I saw a flash of fear or uncertainty in her eyes. Now or never, I suppose.
“Hey, Paula! Come here for a second, would you?”
“Uh, yes?” she said.
I walked over to the pile of folded clothes. I picked up the pink panties off the top of my soiled shirt, which I had purposely left on top of the pile. “I found these, and I, um, they seemed, um, like…” I fumbled for thought and breath at the same time. Relax! “Yeah, I found these,” I started over, “and they seemed like they might not have been washed, they, uh, smelled like they had possibly been worn, so I washed them for you,” and handed them to her, watching her reaction the entire time. My heart was beating a hundred beats a minute as I attempted to stay calm and cool. She just looked at me, trying to interpret what I was saying, and then after a brief moment, her eyes widened a little and she smiled. “Thanks, Daddy!” and practically bounced over to give me a big hug. “You’re so sweet!” she said, smiling up at me, almost beaming, and then bounded away to her room, panties in hand. God I loved watching her leave as much as I loved watching her come towards me.
Jeri came home, we finished eating, and put every away. Paula was either in her room or out watching TV. I used the time doing dishes and cleaning up after dinner to get a little frisky with the wife, grabbing her ass as we passed, steal a kiss, hug her from behind, pressing tightly, all the things we do to announce our intentions and advances. “Stop it!” she giggled, “later!” slapping my hands playfully when they roamed up to her breasts during a behind the back hug.
We all sat down and watched TV, that terrible new remake of an 80’s show that wasn’t all that great back then. Sorry to say, it’s even more ridiculous now then it was back then. My wife looks at me and announces she’s going to hit the hay. “I’ll join you,” I said. “I had a long day.” I could see Paula look a bit disappointed, as she was dressed a little revealingly, a halter top that was a bit too small, and shorts that were very loose, so when she lifted her knees, they flopped open to reveal her upper thigh and hips. I assumed that was for me, and it was tempting, for sure. I hear my wife leave the bathroom and head into bed, so I tell Paula, “Good night, dear! I’m going in with your mom. You looked really nice tonight”, I tell her and give her a small wink and a smile.
I follow Jeri into our bedroom, and as I turn to close the door, I have a thought in my head about the times Paula would “catch us” in the act. I turned out the light, closed the door most of the way, but not all the way until it latched, enough to ensure that the light from the hallway wouldn’t make it noticeable that it wasn’t closed all the way, but that anyone in the hallway would see that it wasn’t closed.
Jeri and I went through our basic routine of foreplay, where I come up behind her on the bed, move her hair, kiss her neck as I rub her shoulders for a minute, then proceed to kiss her fully on the mouth, and move my hands to her full breasts. As we progress down to handling each other’s lower parts, I position her so that I am facing the door, and she is facing away, or my body is blocking her view of the door when she is facing the doorway. I see the hallway light turn off, and keep one eye on my business at hand and one eye on the doorway. The TV is on, throwing shadows, so when I thought for sure the door moved a bit, it might have been a shadow. Either way, like a peacock, I began strutting my stuff sexually, so to speak, performing for an audience that I don’t even know is there, but I hope is there, watching me. I never thought of myself as an exhibitionist, but I have also never sniffed my stepdaughter’s panties before today, either, so I guess new things are happening all the time.
I bring my wife to orgasm, and thinking about both her and an audience, I a little more vocally than normal, have my own eruption, deep inside my wife, as she gasps and I grunt my appreciation. She looks me in the eye as we have the post-coitus glow moment, and asks me, “You sure have been pretty horny lately. What is causing that?”
“I don’t kn, uh, you’re just so beautiful” I stammer out. She smiles. “I’m sure.” I lean down, kiss her and get up to go get a towel. Again, the TV was on, but I thought for sure I heard rustling by the door. I definitely heard the closing of either Paula’s or the bathroom door out in the hallway.
“Maybe you should close the door all the way shut next time.” I hear Jeri’s voice say from behind me on the bed. I close the door and turn back.
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