Jason had married my mother when I was 12. She was a cougar business woman. He was her boy toy. They got married. My mother was the perfect CEO but a rather absent mom. A year after she divorced my dad, she married her trainer. He only worked part-time so he pretty much lived a kept life. My mom, Sheila, was 41 at the time, and Jason was 24. He had been working at her fancy high class gym, while working on his master's in athletic training.
And let me tell you, as a chubby girl in her teens, I was in love. I couldn't look at him without turning bright red, let alone speak to him. But in my eyes, he hung the moon. He was muscular and blonde with bright captivating eyes. He always had a short kempt beard and his hair looked artfully rumpled. And as I got older and chunkier, I began to get more and more self-conscious. Especially around Jason. He continued to maintain a very athletic physique. I hated working out. I loved snacks. And my mom was rarely around to tell me to stop. Jason and I didn't speak much, especially since I could barely form words near him. My mother was the picture of fashionable, trim, and athletic. But she didn't seem to notice my struggle with my self-esteem.
I grew up naïve and incredibly sheltered as my mother felt that I should be as busy and focused as she was. I spent my time in piano lessons, with tutors, or taking extra college classes. She believed that I should always be able to be independent and take care of myself. That started with education.
The summer after my freshman year of college, when I was 19, I finally said enough and decided to take the entire summer off. My mother was on an extended business trip to Germany and was only returning every other weekend. That left me wandering around the big house with just Jason. The first few weeks were awkward because he was still hot as hell. At 31 he was starting to develop laugh lines around his eyes and a light furring of hair across his chest. As far as I could tell he had always been faithful to my mother. Like any younger man though, he did go with his male friends on trips, but it always coordinated with my mother's busy schedule.
Finally, after 3 weeks of barely leaving my room, I decided to get over myself and spend some time by the pool. If I got lucky, Jason would sleep most of the day. He had spent his Saturday night playing poker with his buddies.
I walked into the den that connected to our kitchen. There were a couple empty beer bottles next to the couch on the side table, and a throw blanket was tossed haphazardly across the cushions. I planned to make some breakfast and wanted to put some music through the sound system while I did. To my surprise and shock, when I turned the TV on, all I could hear was heavy panting and moaning. On the screen, a young woman with large natural breasts and soft thighs, was being held down by the throat while looking longingly up at the burly dark-haired man holding her in place. The angle of the camera didn't provide a clear view, but the man was clearly thrusting his penis roughly inside her vagina. The woman whimpered and the man released her throat, switching his grip to her ankles, spreading her thick thighs and pounding even more ferociously.
After a moment of frozen shock, I pressed the home button, searching quickly for my playlist. I felt curious about what I had seen and pondered it while I chopped up some watermelon. Clearly, it was something that Jason had been watching after the guys left last night. The sex on the screen had been rough and hard and the woman had obviously enjoyed what had been done to her.
All my sexual experience came from one of my tutors last summer. He had only been a little older than me and very nerdy, and awkward. He didn't have much experience with women, and I just hadn't understood the hype of sex. Even after trying a few times with my tutor. As I had started college, I didn't worry about it. The thought that Jason found the kind of sex on the TV attractive, made me feel tingly in places I hadn't felt overly interested in, in the past.
As I was settling into a short sunbathing session, my mind stayed on the topic of sex. I could even feel my nipples perking up beneath the stretchy fabric of my swim top. I had a high waisted bikini on. It covered my softly rounded belly, but the top struggled to keep my breasts contained. My pale thighs touched, and my wide hips just barely stayed on the recliner. I made sure to move the large umbrella over me before choosing to doze off. My milky white skin rarely tans. I'm more likely to burn. My blonde haired Nordic descent rarely allowed for hours of sun worship.
I woke to a muttered, "Fuck little girl, you are gorgeous."
I must have heard him incorrectly. I peeled my eyes opened, murmuring, "What?"
Jason grinned. "I was just pointing out how gorgeous it is today."
It took all my will power not to grab my towel and cover my body. I was struggling to build my confidence. I couldn't spend the entire summer hiding in my room because my stepdad was too hot.
He stood at the end of my recliner in a low-slung pair of grey sweatpants and nothing else. His broad, lightly furred chest and abs led down to a defined Adonis belt. I could feel my cheeks and chest beginning to flush. I glanced downward in the hopes that I would find something less distracting to look at. And somehow, Jason even had sexy feet. They were well shaped and taken care of.
"Do you mind if I sit with you a minute?" he questioned, waving toward the end of the lounger. I pulled my knee up quickly to create room for him. Perhaps too quickly though as I felt the snug crotch of my swim bottoms shift to the side revealing a smooth lip of my vagina. Jason immediately noticed as he sat down, his eyes locking directly on the situation. We both sat stunned for a protracted moment. He seemed to catch himself though, looking me in the eyes with an oddly hungry look. I turned both of my knees to the side covering the exposure with my thick thighs.
Jason gave a huffing laugh, "Umm... I just wanted to say it's nice to see you out of your room. In an attempt to keep both of us from wasting the summer, your mom thought that we should spend some time bonding."
Why had he laughed?
I wondered to myself. Was the sight of me laughable? Or did he perhaps feel that spending time with me was a waste? He continued talking, though I heard very little of it.
Jason's fingers snapped in front of my face, making my already flushed skin turn cherry red. I swatted at his hand, mumbling, "Rude."
"Rude? What do you call spacing out while I'm speaking to you?" His tone held a hint of reprimand in it. It surprised me.
"Why did you laugh?" I blurted out, looking down, picking at the lounger.
"What?"
"Just now. After... you know. You laughed. Why?"
I felt a finger and thumb pull my face up, making me look him in the eye. "I wasn't laughing at you, Sweets. I promise. I was laughing at myself. I have a soft spot for women with... curves." He paused, looking down toward the juncture of my thighs, saying thoughtfully, "And of course, I'm being tortured with one of the most pristine and juicy pussies I've ever seen."
My lips parted, barely comprehending his words. He was my stepfather. Though we rarely interacted, I was fairly certain this was a taboo I shouldn't take part in. Jason's eyes continued to linger on my thighs, and he was running a finger absently along my right hip. When he put pressure on my right knee, I couldn't stop myself from parting my legs for him. The swimsuit situation had gotten worse. Both sides had tucked themselves between my lips.
"You have a beautiful little cameltoe, sweets."
"Cameltoe?" I asked in confusion.
"When you can see these pretty pussy lips through your clothes," he explained. He looked up, his eyes glinting. "Would you like me to demonstrate?"
"Umm. Sure." I was very hesitant. Was he going to show me a picture? And then, I didn't have to question what he was going to do, because he was running the length of his index finger along my vagina, pressing the fabric deeper between my lips and putting pressure on my clit. I gasped, my hips jerking toward him.
Jason pulled his hand back, grabbing a handful of my inner thigh, pushing my legs even more open, his thumb stroking the edges of my hairless vagina. "Look at your cute cameltoe, sweets. How are men supposed to resist that?"
