He heard the door slam. She was home. He would have to hurry upstairs if he was going to have a chance of avoiding her.
"Rick, are you home?" She yelled out as she stalked toward the kitchen.
And stalk was the only way to describe it. She was like a cat on the hunt. A cat in heat.
He had spent the last few weeks avoiding Michelle, his stepdaughter. Since she turned eighteen, she had clearly decided to practice the art of seduction on every man in her field of vision. Unfortunately, that included him and he wasn't sure how to handle it. Damn, if only her mother were here.
He had married her beautiful mother, Lori, when Michelle was just fourteen and a skinny kid with glasses and braces. Two years later, Lori had been tragically killed in a car accident on her way to work. He and Michelle had been devastated and leaned on each other for support in the months and years to come.
But lately, Michelle was obviously "feeling her oats" as his father used to say. She wore skimpy clothing that didn't leave much to the imagination. He tried to talk to her about it, but it always ended in an argument with Michelle yelling, "you're not even my real father" or some equally hurtful comment until he dropped the subject.
Michelle came into the kitchen before he was able to escape up the back stairwell. She was stunningly beautiful, just like her mother when she was younger. She was a petite blonde, only about 5'3", but perfectly proportioned. Her silky hair hung to her waist even though she had it tied back in a ponytail. She had muscular legs that were tanned and on display in a ridiculously short denim skirt. The top of the skirt fell a good three inches below her belly button and Rick got the idea that either she shaved, or her pubic hair was just under the next millimeter of skirt.
Her tan and flat belly was showing between her skirt and cut off pink tank top that clung to her chest. Her unbelievable breasts were showcased in this far too tight tank top. They must have been about a 34 C, but they totally defied gravity and stood firm and straight out from her chest. Her nipples were long and hard and looked like they might rip through her shirt at any moment.
"Did you actually wear that out of the house?" were Rick's first words to her.
"Yea, what business is it of yours?" was her retort.
"It's my job as your stepfather to make sure you grow up to be a responsible adult, and I can't do that if you are out attracting every thing with two legs and a dick in a 50 mile radius," Rick shot back.
Michelle came closer to him then. She sidled right up until she was looking straight up into his face and walked her fingers up his chest. With her best seductive voice (one she had been practicing on the stupid boys at school for months), she whispered, "You're within a 50 mile radius, how do I affect your dick?"
He was shocked. Yes, Michelle had been flirting with him lately, but he figured that it was normal for a teenage girl to practice flirting with the men in her family. She had also been sauntering around the house in skimpy clothing, t-shirts with only panties on or just her bra and underwear. But she had never really propositioned him directly, so he hadn't had to really analyze the feelings he had for her too closely. He figured that Michelle would flirt and hone her skills and then go off to college next year. No harm, no foul. Right?
Now the state of his dick was in question. Certainly he couldn't tell her that it had been hard since she came into the kitchen in her barely there attire. As if she read his mind, her eyes dropped to the fly of his jeans.
"You know, I have always been curious about your penis," Michelle said as she brazenly observed his cock getting bigger in his jeans.
"I used to listed to you with my mom and she used to scream about how big you are and how she never wanted you to stop. That was when I first started touching myself. Listening to you fuck her every night," she confessed. "Can I see it?" Michelle asked.
"That would be extremely inappropriate," he told her and left the room to escape to his bedroom and then to the shower to beat off.
Michelle went to her own room then, threw herself on the bed and began to sob. What was wrong with her? Wasn't she pretty like her momma was? All she had every wanted was for Rick to love her like he did her mom. Yes, he was the only father she ever knew, and so maybe her feelings for him were wrong. But he wasn't her real father. He wasn't even that old. He was only 40 and was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. Tall and muscular without being bulky, brownish auburn hair and piercing green eyes. She had fantasized about Rick ever since he married her mother. When her mother died he was devastated. They both were. She had vowed to herself that she would take care of Rick just like her mom had. She had learned to cook and began cleaning more than her share of the house on a regular basis. She worked hard in school and brought home good grades. But Rick still hadn't noticed her as anything but a little girl.
