Is having sex with your stepdaughter when she is a grown woman incest? Before you make up your mind and judge us, read this story.
I'd started my 'second career' that summer. I was trying to be a writer. My children - I call them my children, but they were really my second wife's family, my step kids - had grown up and moved on to lives of their own. Rachel was 27 and her brother was a couple of years younger. She left home for college at 18 and was now, after a few false starts, successful - as successful as any parent could wish.
Based at her own design studio overlooking the river a few miles west of the London, her work was beginning to be seen on advertising hoardings, magazines and in corporate literature. Her smiling face framed by long silky brown hair looked out at me from a framed picture on my desk, a moment in time that had caught her carefree and sympathetic character in a perfect instant.
It had of course not always been like that. As a teenager she had hated me, and everything I stood for, blaming me for the break-up of her original family. With time and maturity we became at first more comfortable and then close friends until she started to look on me as more of a father figure than an unwanted complication in her life. After she left home we became closer and were able to talk more as friends than anything else.
So there I was; old job behind me - no more meetings about meetings, no more corporate bullshit. Just the freedom and excitement of breaking out to do what I'd always wanted, to write. To write anything that anyone would pay me to write. I'd be a literary whore - the refinement could come later. A few months earlier my wife - Rachel's mother - and I had separated amicably. We'd just out-grown each other and moved on to different interests. A few regrets on each side, but not many.
I was lucky. Early on I was awarded a contract to write a series of articles for a magazine about sailing ships in the later part of the 19th century. This meant research trips to London and naturally I'd stay with Rachel at her studio flat while I was working in the city, visiting archives out at Greenwich and Kew.
One week in late spring I'd called Rachel to let her know I was coming down for a couple of days.
'Hey that's great - I'll see you on Thursday evening.'
It was a warm day and loads of traffic held me up so I hit the M25 in the rush hour. When I arrived at Rachel's I was hot and bothered, but her big smile, her arm round me as she helped get my luggage up the stairs to her second floor studio made me feel better.
'How are you? Do you want a drink? Do you want a shower? There's a towel in the bathroom.'
I'm OK, yes, yes and thanks.' I replied laughing at her torrent of happiness and shear zest for life. Rachel never did anything by halves and always asked two or three questions at once when she was excited.
'OK. You know where the bathroom is. I'll get the drinks.'
I stepped through to Rachel's bedroom - it's a single bedroom studio and the bathroom is off the only bedroom. I noticed the faint aroma immediately. A pleasant musky tang hung in the warm room and if I hadn't still been a bit fazed by the journey I would have known straight away what it was.
But it took me a few moments to notice the body-shaped depression in her duvet where she had obviously recently been lying. Studying the shape I realised that she had been lying with her legs apart and then it clicked. The faint lingering smell was, well... was the smell of a recently excited female body. Despite my relationship - this woman was still my daughter, and much to my surprise - I felt a little tingle of excitement stir in my groin.
Laughing at myself I moved on to the bathroom and started to undress.
'Put your clothes in the wash basket if you want to. I'm doing some washing later.' Rachel called from the other room.'
OK. Thanks love,' I called back.
Stripping of my clothes was sheer luxury after the hours in the hot car. I lifted the top of the wash basket and was about to drop them in when I noticed a pair of small white cotton panties lying on top of the heap of clothing already in there. They were very skimpy, in fact they had no back at all apart from a thin piece of material. What caught my eye next made my heart miss a beat and then restart with an almost audible thump. In the part of her panties that would have been next to her vagina a patch of wetness showed up as a darker area in the soft whiteness. I noticed at the same time the female aroma was much stronger. She must have been wearing these panties while she lay on the bed pleasing herself with her fingers or who knows what...
My cock twitched again and I could not help my self - I just had to pick them up them so I could breathe in the erotic scent of secret pleasure. I held them close to me and savoured the fabulous scent of a woman's most private moments. I have always been sexually exited my a woman's smell, but the added taboo of smelling my own step-daughters freshly used panties was one of the most exciting things I'd ever experienced. My cock was rapidly getting larger and when I gently licked and tasted the wetness it stood fully up and demanded my attention.
I was standing with one hand round my cock and my stepdaughter's panties held to my face when a knock came at the door.
'Ere'z your drink sir!' Rachel called in a mock French maid's accent.
I quickly dropped her panties back into the basket and scooped my clothes in on top of them. Grabbing a towel I wrapped it round me and turned away from the door to hide my erection.
'It's OK.' I called.
Rachel opened the door. I saw her reflection in the mirror smiling at my naked back for a moment then placed the drink on the washstand.
'Thanks love. I'll be out in a minute.'
'OK.'
Jesus! That was close. The thought of Rachel catching me like that brought me back to a limp reality with a vengeance. What was I thinking of? I drained the drink, showered and changed into loose and comfortable shorts and T-shirt, then wandered back to the main room where Rachel sat cross-legged on a wide, low couch sipping from a long glass.
This wouldn't normally have caused me any problem but Rachel was wearing a pair of those very close fitting cotton/Lycra shorts that hugged every contour of her lower body and left just enough to the imagination to be enticing. Topped off with a matching crop-top that left her smooth brown tummy exposed and emphasised her breasts, the effect - especially after my recent excitement in her bathroom - was electrifying.
'Are you OK? Sit down. I'll get you another drink.' She rose smoothly from the couch and passed close to me leaving a subtle air of perfume and musk as she went.
'I'm, um, fine thanks.' I managed to say, my voice betraying the nervousness I felt. Rachel turned and came closer.
Are you sure? Only you seem a little distracted.'
'Well it's a long drive. I must be a little travel-shocked.'
'Sit down. I know what you need.'
I sat on her couch and on her instruction leaned forward with my head over my knees. I felt her gentle hands begin to massage the back of my neck and shoulders. It felt great, really great and certainly helped to ease the stress. But after a few minutes another form of stress returned because I was acutely aware that her thinly clothed body was only inches from mine as she leant over me to work on my back.
The source of that delightful aroma was only a few inches from my head. Breathing gently in I sensed again her female musk and again that began to excite my cock. I could reach out and... No! Don't even think about it.
