Family Secrets (6 page)

Uncomfortable and hardly knowing what else to
say, Luke had only cleared his throat again and said in a low,
uncertain voice, "Just do it, Britt. Go upstairs and put on some
more clothes."

Without saying a word, Brittney had rolled
over on her back, slowly, with her eyes narrowed to slits. Luke had
pretended not to see her, but they both knew he'd been looking at
her out of the corner of his eye and he'd felt a nervous jolt in
his system. His little Britt-Britt had never made him nervous
before, but she'd started making him nervous then.

Unbelieving at first, he saw her pull her top
up, exposing her breasts, the nipples already hard, her tits still
young and perky, so unlike her mother's. Luke had swallowed, but
his throat had gone dry and it had been like sucking air down a
pipe against a tube of sandpaper. She wasn't saying anything, but
she was doing too much, exposing way too much skin, and even though
Luke knew he should have gotten up from the sofa beside her in
protest, he'd only sat there, wondering what she was going to do
next as his dick had started to jump in mute anticipation.

She'd spread her legs, and involuntarily he'd
felt a sick thrill go through him. He sucked in a breath when she
took the hand that had jammed the thumb in her mouth down the front
of her panties. Still, she hadn't said a word, and neither had he.
But sometimes words didn't matter. Before he knew it, his cock
wasn't only twitching, it was hard; and he was no longer pretending
to stare at the TV, he was looking between her thighs, transfixed
by the motions of her hand.

"Brittney, stop this," he'd said to her in a
too-small voice that hadn't suited his frame or personality in any
way.

Around his workplace, Luke was known to put
the fear in grown men just by the sound of his voice. He'd been in
just as many fights as an adult as he'd been in as a young man, and
he'd sent plenty of men to the hospital. He was big, he was a known
badass, a hard worker, a hard-as-nails blue-collar ex-jock with a
current-jock physique. Yet, one look at a nice young snatch right
in front of his face that's there for the taking reduced him to a
quivering six-foot-three inch tub of Jell-o.

"Why?" she'd asked again, but the childish
sulkiness had fled from her voice and her tone had taken on a
quality he hadn't ever remembered hearing before then.

She didn't wait for his answer. Instead, what
she'd done was take her right hand from inside her panties, and
with the aid of her left hand, she'd pulled down the waistband that
held together the sliver of material that had kept her slit from
complete exposure to him and left absolutely nothing to the
imagination. When she saw that he wasn't protesting, wasn't getting
up from the sofa, and had only kept staring at her below her waist
with a mixture of contempt and awe, she pulled her panties the rest
of the way off, spread her thighs apart even further, and put both
her hands against the sides of her pussy lips and spread them.

Luke opened his mouth to say something, but
whatever word had been itching to come out had died on his lips
before he even had a chance to know what he was going to say.

She'd shaved her pussy completely of hair,
and not only did the soft white creaminess of her skin show
gleaming since she'd spread some of her juices over it, but her
inner pink showed even more. He looked at her swollen messy clit
and his first instinct had been to lean down, put that fat little
sexual organ between his lips and start sucking it. Somehow, he'd
managed to resist the temptation, but only barely.

Brittney, as if reading his mind, said at the
very moment, "Don’t you want to eat my pussy, Daddy? Don't you want
to suck my clit and drink my pussy juice, Dada? Eat my pussy Daddy;
Scott says my pussy juice is sweet. Don't you want to taste me,
too?"

Luke had closed his eyes, but there was a
tent in his jeans that he couldn't pretend wasn't there, not that
he didn't intend to take care of it later, but he soon found there
wouldn't be a need for that.

Before he could tell her to stop again, and
before he was able to make his escape from the sofa, Brittney
hoisted herself into a sitting position right before she leaned
toward him and started undoing the buttons and zipper of his jeans.
A voice in the back of his head—later he would realize that it had
been the voice of rationale, morality and sanity—had screamed at
him to put a stop to it, that he should shove his stepdaughter away
from his crotch and run upstairs, but he'd paid that meddling voice
no mind. Instead, another voice had slithered along, usurping the
voice of Luke's inherent goodness, and had said only a few words to
him, but they'd been words he'd wanted to hear more than anything
else at that moment.
Don't you want to see what she's learned so
far, Luke-o-boy? Don't you want to see how that cute little mouth
feels on your cock? Don't you want to see how that tasty tight
little snatch feels wrapped around your hard dick? You do, don't
you big boy?

Yes, he did. But back then he hadn't
recognized that second snake-like voice as the sneering voice; he'd
only heard the words, and given in to them.

Again, he hadn't put up a fight when he knew
that Britt was opening up the front of his jeans. A part of him
thought she'd chicken out and quit all on her own. No such
luck.

Moments later he'd felt the warmth of her
palm wrap around his hard-on and then he'd felt the smoothness of
her mouth, along with the heat and the wetness, encircle the head
of his dick and then inch slowly down the length of his shaft. His
breath had been caught. He couldn't breathe. It felt too good, and
yet it was horribly wrong and he knew it.

The soft sounds of her sucking his cock
peppered the air and he found himself absently stroking her hair
just as she'd been twirling it around her fingers only moments
before. Then she'd picked up speed, lapping at his hard cock, her
head bobbing like mad. He opened his eyes at one point and simply
stared at the back of her head, the familiar hair attached to a
familiar person that was doing some very unusual things to a part
of his body that was meant to be off limits to her.

Then she'd slowed her rhythm again, and out
of the blue, she'd turned her head to the side, his cock still in
her mouth, her eyes glazed, but still lovely, and with the head of
his hardness on her tongue, she'd asked him in a sincere tone,
"Will you play with my pussy, Daddy? Please?"

Feeling as if the situation as a whole was
completely surreal, Luke had only nodded and she'd gone back to
stuffing her face with his rod, that time easing his shaft further
into her mouth and down her throat. Hesitating only a bit, and with
a few jerky movements of his left hand, Luke reached toward
Brittney's rear-end and as per usual with a male who has had plenty
of sexual experience with the opposite sex, his fingers found her
slit immediately, without a second of fumbling.

He'd eased only one of his fingers inside of
her at first, and with that one stroke of his long, slim digit he'd
felt her fleshy folds part and her vaginal walls close around his
own flesh and he let out a guttural groan. Before he thought any
more about what he was doing, he slipped another finger into her
hole and started giving her a two-finger pounding. Instantly she
began to suck his cock with more vigor, taking his hard-on so far
down her throat that her lips touched the base. At that time, he
couldn't remember the last blowjob he'd had, let alone the last
good
blowjob, and as Brittney worked her mouth on his
erection, he'd tried not to think about the fact that he was
getting absolutely superb head from his stepdaughter. At the time,
he and his wife had been having the mandatory once-a-month fuck
fests that had only included Susan lying on her back until he was
finished. Those had been a far cry from an awesome blowjob and a
spine-tingling finger-fucking.

As he'd slammed his two fingers inside of
her, Luke could feel himself getting closer and closer to orgasm. A
part of him—a very distant part—was trying to hold it back, but
that naughty, amoral side was practically dancing with glee. Her
mouth had felt so good all he wanted to do was cum inside of
it.

And just as the muscles of his shaft began to
jerk with the first convulsions of his climax, Brittney lifted her
head from his lap, and in the process extracted his cock from her
mouth for the most part even though the head of his dick was
resting against her lips still, she'd screamed, "I'm coming, Daddy!
Don't stop! I'm coming!"

Just as the words left her mouth, a stream of
hot semen burst from the head of his erect penis, most of it
shooting straight up in the air. He hadn't been sure of the last
time he'd cum that hard or that much at once without pounding
someone's pussy hard and fast for at least half an hour, and the
explosiveness of his orgasm had stunned them both.

Even as Brittney had screamed that she was
about to cum, she hadn't stopped pumping his cock that was so slick
with her saliva that it had been splashing around on his shaft
through her closed palm; having a ton of his cum dribble down the
sides of his cock had only added to the madness of the
situation.

As he came, Luke had felt the walls of
Brittney's pussy undulate around the two fingers that he'd had
going in and out of her at lightning speed, and that had made him
cum even more.

Glassy-eyed and ultimately dazed, as his
orgasm tapered off, Luke had looked down at Brittney as she'd
licked along his hard-on, lapping up all of the semen she could on
her tongue, swallowing it as if it were the best dessert she'd had
in a while. Once she was done, she'd sat up on her haunches,
letting his diminishing erection fall onto his jeans with a thump
that was hardly heard, but it was one that Luke had definitely felt
because he'd grimaced slightly the second his extra-sensitive cock
made contact with the material. When he'd looked up at Brittney,
however, she'd had a rather sardonic smile on her face, one that
said she knew all about what he was feeling—especially his dick
that had just spewed a massive load everywhere they could see—and
she'd dropped his thick joystick the way she had on purpose.

He also saw something else very disturbing
when he'd looked up at her smiling face. There was cum in her hair,
cum dripping down one side of her face heavily, cum on her nose,
lips, and chin; some of his cum had even gotten on her neck and had
smeared over her tiny top. It was the same little girl that he'd
once upon a time tried to do her hair for school, and failed. It
was the same little girl who had dragged him for ice cream after
her softball match when she was ten. The same little girl who he'd
bought dolls for so he could wrap and put under the tree for
Christmas.

That same little girl had grown up mostly by
then and she'd just sucked his cock until he'd shot cum all over
her face. He'd also just had his fingers inside that same girl's
pussy and had felt her orgasm ripple around his own flesh.

And there she was smiling at him. Smiling,
and swiping a dollop of his cum as it rolled beneath her bottom lip
with her index finger and sucking it right off as if it were icing
on a cake. She did the same thing a couple more times with a few
more extra smears of his cum and all he could do was look at
her.

"You taste good, Daddy," she'd said with a
giggle and the blood in his veins had turned ice cold.

He'd opened his mouth to say something to
her, but no words had come out. But he needn't have worried.
Brittney had already started to pull her top down and she was
looking for her panties before anything reasonable could form in
his mind by way of conversation or appeasement.

Just before she'd left the room, however,
she'd put a finger to her lips and said to him, "Don't worry,
this'll be our little secret. Just like what Scott and I do is a
secret." And with those words she'd bounded out of the room,
leaving Luke to ponder over her parting words.

After Susan came home that day, and Luke had
had time to think about what he'd done, he'd felt as if his guilt
had been drowning him. He'd even considered just packing his bags
and leaving, because every single time he'd looked at his wife he'd
contemplated spilling his guts and begging for mercy, then he'd
look at Brittney's placid expression, nothing she was doing giving
way to what had transpired between the two of them earlier that
day. He'd wondered what could have been going through her head. He
wondered if she'd tell, and then he'd told himself that if she were
going to tell about anything that happened in their house she would
have told a long time ago. His thoughts were on a flip-flop until
two days later he'd calmed down and figured that the storm had
passed even though he hadn't quite understood the currents of the
storm in the first place. Whatever had happened between him and
Brittney in the living room had been a one-time thing, regardless
if he couldn't get it out of his head.

He'd started to have dreams about it. He'd
wake up with erections that could have broken a two-by-four in half
he'd been so hard just imagining her lips on his dick again.

But to soothe his rattled nerves, he told
himself that he would stay out of her way and she'd probably stay
out of his. The lovey-dovey stepfather-stepdaughter phase they'd
had a long time ago had obviously passed once he found out Scott
had been having sex with her, but even their amiable, platonic
stepparent/stepchild relationship had disintegrated with one
damning act committed on the sofa.

Things had been so calm in the house that
when Susan left him at home in the house with Brittney one
evening—the third evening after the incident on the sofa when he'd
still been basking in his nights off—he'd convinced himself that
whatever had happened was behind them. They were over it, passed
it, and things were back to normal. It had actually come as a shock
to him when Brittney had strode into his and Susan's bedroom stark
naked while he was in nothing but a pair of boxers and an
undershirt, lying half-on half-off their bed as he watched some old
movie from the 1970s that he hadn't thought about in years.