The Next Chapter

"Your uncle and I have talked about this and we agree. You should come live with us," Aunt Sarah said. "I know you're an adult, but maybe you should stay with family until you get yourself settled in life."

It was a little over a year since Maddie's mother passed away, leaving her with her step-dad Steve. As far as Maddie was concerned, she wanted to stay in her home. She'd been there all her life. And, there was Steve. That wasn't something she was prepared to argue.

"I understand what you're saying auntie, I really do. But that house is my home. I have all my life memories there: mom, dad, school, Christmases. Steve has already said that he hopes I'll stay as long as I can," said Maddie. "Plus, he's been as much of a father as I could ask for."

"I agree that he has been very good to you. But still, a young lady like yourself? Don't you think that people will look funny at that? He didn't even adopt you," Aunt Sarah responded, pretty much indicating that she was already looking funny at it.

"Little do you know, auntie," Maddie thought.

"Auntie, I still haven't made up my mind what I want to do for school. Steve gives me all the freedom I need. Also, you know that he has formalized an agreement that mom's share of the house now belongs to me, right? It isn't just that I live there. It's MY house, at least part of it."

"Yes dear, I understand. That won't change when you come to stay with us," Auntie Sarah persisted.

"Auntie, you are saying this like it's a done deal. You brought it up when mom died and I've had a long time to think about it. I want to stay in MY house."

"I love you dear and only want the best for you. I am sure Uncle Jason will have more to say. Just keep thinking about it, okay?"

"Thank you, auntie. Do you have some more coffee?" Maddie responded, grateful for the opportunity to get off the topic.

The small talk about future plans, the coming holidays, and Maddie's mom was a relief. It was near three o'clock and Maddie decided she had to leave. Steve would be home from work at 5:30 and she still had dinner to get ready, plus some other preparations.

"Do you have to go so soon?" pleaded Sarah.

"I am making dinner for Steve and he'll be home soon," Maddie replied.

"Ooooh, he's a grown man. He can take care of himself," countered Sarah. "Plus, it's Friday. Aren't you going to go out and do something fun?"

"Take care of himself. Just like you make Uncle Jason do," Maddie remarked only to herself.

She sidestepped that thought and answered, "It's just dinner and the least I can do. And don't worry; I make a lot of time for my friends."

"I have to go. I love you Aunt Sarah," Maddie declared with a kiss to Sarah's cheek.

"I love you too, Maddie. See you soon."

Maddie smirked at the manifestation of her own conflict. Nothing short of an accident would keep her from the self-assigned responsibility of tending to her loving step-father. Even Steve had gently rebuffed the role she assumed in their house, but she persisted, well aware of her own developing strength.

It had been a long road to where she was at now. She wouldn't trade it for anything.

Steve and Maddie had grown remarkably close since her mom's death. She hadn't been pining away or anything like that. They both grieved, to be sure, and took comfort with each other. Despite the lack of legal and biological connection, there was no question in Steve's mind whether they would continue under the same roof. No one questioned it, at least apart from Maddie's Aunt Sarah. They continued as before, no change in the outward relationship. They shopped together sometimes, he helped her get ready for graduation, took a vacation after school finished.

Steve had always treated her mom and her like they were his life. He earned a good living and had unselfishly shared it with them. He was a well-respected engineer but not a workaholic. He always had time for them - life events, vacations, he took care of stuff around the house, went to concerts and games. She especially appreciated how he focused on the things she respected in a man. Or maybe, she had come to that respect because of the man who was doing them. Tasks like car care, fixing things in the house, and how he tinkered on some of his projects had fascinated Maddie. He was so much like how she remembered her real father. He had died of injuries from a car crash when she was only five, but she had very clear memories of security and happiness with him.

Arriving home from her aunt's at 3:30, Maddie opened the door with a delighted apprehension. She looked forward to her time with Steve. Friday nights had become their default family time: sometimes shopping, maybe a movie, very often a home-cooked meal.

They often shared kitchen duty, but there was a clear and amusing understanding; Maddie didn't touch the barbecue grill. She always chuckled to herself when she thought about it and the spontaneous Tim Taylor grunt that came to mind.

"Oh well, he's only a minion in MY kitchen," she gloated to herself.

Tonight, it was roast beef. It took her about a half hour to season the roast and get it in the oven, start some potatoes boiling and prep some vegetables and salad. The last thing she did was decant some red wine, a robust Okanagan vintage they got on their last trip to British Columbia.

"That leaves me plenty of time," she thought, quelling the growing tension in her body. It had gotten so she couldn't even bear the thought of these Fridays without some personal attention beforehand.

She hadn't worked that day and showered before she went to see Aunt Sarah. She was fresh, with a light vanilla fragrance still lingering from her body wash and shampoo. In her bedroom, she stripped down to her bra and panties. As much as she liked her clothes, something about this not-quite-undressed state lightened her step and mood. Plus, she loved her new underwear. She caught a quick peak in the full length mirror on the door, did a quick turn on the balls of her feet, watching herself the whole time before she sashayed to her dresser.

As much as she loved the bra and panties, she felt an absolute need to heat things up, if only for herself. The same day she found the bra and panties, La Vie en Rose had some clearance items and she found a white stretch teddy with long garters extending from the hips. She had to have it even if she didn't know when she'd wear it. After a bit of a hunt, she also found some sheer nude stockings that would go perfectly but not be obvious: just a nice complement to her outfit.

After fitting the teddy to her breasts and down her torso, she carefully unrolled the stockings up her legs. Attaching garters sometimes was terribly frustrating but she liked the end result. The whole process of the dressing was as important to her as the end result. She lingered over the little things, like the adjustment of bra and teddy cups, how she pulled on her pantyhose or stockings, observing herself in the mirror during the dressing event. Certainly, she wanted to take care while she did it, but a part of her was giving into a deeper yearning that overcame her body and soul. It had been only been recently that she began to understand the attraction of such things, and she was especially grateful that the crotch was fastened with little snaps making the access she was about to require that much easier.

Bringing her laptop up onto the bed with her, she opened a browser and called up a bookmark for videos of The Slut. That was how Maddie referred to a particular adult entertainer with a lot of videos. It wasn't that Maddie thought of girls sexually, but this woman's portrayed sexuality was so unashamedly over the top, it was hard for Maddie to not get drawn into her dark, sexy world.

Even before the video started, Maddie was lost in her arousal. Starting with the anticipation of the evening, then surveying herself in the mirror, and finally basking in the sensual pleasures of her body adorned in nylon and lace, the lingering vanilla scent was overcome by something more aggressively feminine. She was going to be in the teddy for some time to come, so she unsnapped the crotch right away.

She chose a solo performance video. The Slut was dressed outrageously as usual. She wore four-inch heels, giving way to seamed RHT stockings attached by garters to a merry widow with breast cutouts, and obscured by a sheer wrap. Her makeup almost seemed almost vulgar, but it was appropriate to the theme - garish but theatrical and dramatic.

Maddie looked at her clock radio and determined she had plenty of time. She gave into her carnal cravings, hopping off the bed and going to her closet. She pulled out the shoes she was going to wear that night, a pair of three-inch heeled black slingbacks. Fitting them on, she went back to the bed and positioned the laptop so she could see it while standing and re-started the video.

There was a sultry song playing to which The Slut "danced"; truthfully, it was more like fucking herself standing up. Maddie swayed and followed along as best as she could, more concerned about the fluidity and grace of her movements than copying everything. She had taken special note about positioning of her body for maximum allure. She bent at the waist, reaching her hands down as far as possible, drawing her palms up the length of her nylon covered legs. As she neared the top of her thighs, she slid the fingers of her right hand inside the stocking band, stretching the material over her finger tips. Standing with slightly bent knees, she pushed her bum out in one direction and thrust her breasts in the other and drew her hand from the stocking over the curve of her ass and up her torso. She brought her other hand up, both breasts now being cupped in a kneading, pinching maneuver as she rotated her hips to the music and for the appraisal of The Slut.

Having enough of her own personal foreplay, she fell back on the bed, allowing her hand to slither down her teddy to her aching, wet pussy. Bringing her knees up to spread herself wide, she rode her wet lips with the length of her middle finger. She'd seen her mentor do it before and repeated the lewd act of sucking her juices off her fingers, leaving them wet with her spit before she resumed playing with her now demanding cunt.

Since encountering The Slut, Maddie had stopped using that word negatively and insultingly, not that it had been frequent anyway. "Cunt" had become the affectionate expression of her vagina in the throes of her lust and passion, almost a being unto itself.

She loved the feeling in there: both the luscious, tight wetness around her fingers and the gentle filling and friction they provided her pussy. She moved her fingers around, then in and out vaguely imagining the sensation she might experience from some of the not-solo performances by The Slut. Her head went back as she moaned and lifted her feet off the bed, imagining the thrusts of a very real but as yet, unrealized lover.

Her moaning escaped as words when she voiced the pleasure she craved. She almost winced at the thought, but knowing the pleasure that followed the release of those forbidden desires, she gave herself to them and buried two fingers between her wet folds.

"Fuck me, daddy."

Daddy Steve had come on the scene about two years after her real dad's death. It took a long time for Maddie to warm up to him, but Steve persevered. He grew increasingly firm, but still gentle with her as his mother's relationship with him solidified. It was a long courtship and they did not marry until Maddie was nearly nine. She remembered the wedding day with a conflict of emotions: sadness that her mom was "forgetting" about her father, happiness that this man she liked to pretend she was angry with was going to become a permanent part of their lives.

He was "Steve" for the longest time, until one day when she was twelve when she had been out playing on a Saturday afternoon. She had become the target of relentless teasing from her friends - yes, they were friends but still kids. She came home to find the house empty. Quietly sobbing as she searched for solace, she finally came across Steve in the garage.

"Daddy," she cried and ran to hug and be hugged by him.

Maddie had not yet known the pleasure of a vaginal orgasm and finished herself by rubbing her clit, sometimes with two hands going at once - one hand fucking her pussy, while the other soothed her throbbing button. She cried out as she convulsed, drawing her knees to her chest with her erotically appointed calves and feet pointed toward the ceiling. Her thighs bounced up and down on her chest as she thrust into herself while blissfully fantasizing about how much better it could be.

She splayed out on the bed as she recovered, catching her breath. She had a continuing mission to attend to and went through a mental inventory of her final preparations.

She spritzed fragrance first to give it time to settle. That was followed with a little wipe down with a washcloth to get rid of sweat and the wet mess left on her legs. Then, she touched up her makeup, making a show of putting on the lipstick by toying with the tube as though it were a little penis. After brushing out her hair and smoothing it down, she went to her closet to retrieve the above-the-knee length black skirt and white blouse she had chosen for tonight.

"If only I didn't have to get any more dressed," she briefly lamented, alarmed that her playtime didn't seem to put her desire to rest.

She relented and put on her clothes. Looking in the mirror, she tucked, straightened, and smoothed, very pleased with herself.

It was now 4:50 and she was a little behind. She decided to cheat and use a pre-mix gravy with drippings from the pan added, mashed the potatoes, readied the salad in the bowl, set the table, and set the beans in the frying pan with butter, salt and pepper.

At 5:25 she gave herself a little pat on the back - "Damn girl, you're good!" - and poured a glass of wine.

She usually greeted Steve when he came home but she had never prepared herself this way before. Instead, she sat tall on the bar stool at the eating counter facing the entrance to the kitchen, crossed her legs ensuring her skirt covered everything, and took a sip of wine while she waited. She had just undone a button on her blouse to reveal the top of the teddy when she heard the key in the door.

"Hi Maddie, I'm home," he called from the entry. The smell of the beef immediately brought an amused and resigned smile to his face.

"That girl doesn't give up on that," he quietly muttered.

"I'm in the kitchen, daddy."

Steve hung up his coat and put his shoes in the closet before rounding the corner to the kitchen.

"Oh. My. God. Not again."

Steve had found himself looking forward to seeing Maddie after work, his gaze of appraisal lingered when she'd show a new top or outfit. He had been completely overtaken though, one morning when she had a job interview later in the day.

Steve was getting ready to leave for work and he hadn't seen Maddie yet. He was about to check on her and say goodbye when he heard the click of heels on the tile floor around the corner.

In that moment, it was as though lightning struck with no physical evidence. Steve maintained his cool but was dumbstruck at the vision of Maddie as she rounded the corner and presented herself to him.

Her long brown hair draped over the front and back of her shoulders, framing a face made up unlike he'd ever seen on her before: dark eyes, full lashes, richly-coloured lips. Caressing her body was a long-sleeve, semi-sheer blouse over a camisole which revealed just a hint of cleavage. The blouse was meticulously tucked into a dark grey pencil skirt that came just above her knees. The contrast of her legs was muted by the very sheer and expensive-looking black nylon that glowed from her flesh underneath. She stopped and slowly twirled on her black slingback stiletto pumps.

"Do you think I'll knock 'em dead, daddy?"

Though it had been a long time, Steve still knew the game.

"If you fall off those heels and poke 'em in the eye, you will," he said with a wink.

*Slap*

"You look pretty, sweetheart."

"Pretty? Pretty?" Maddie was indignant, making a show of stomping her foot.

"Come here precious," he beckoned her. "You look fabulous. I wish I could hire you."

Steve was a mess inside as he gave her a fatherly hug to encourage her and wished her luck. She thanked him with a very satisfied smile behind his back. Steve withdrew his hips slightly to obscure his growing erection, and then begged off to head to work.

Once he got in the car, Steve allowed himself to reel for a minute. Gripping the wheel hard, he felt like banging his head against it. What was he thinking? He was entrusted with this girl as though she were his own flesh and blood. He shook it off enough to get on the road, but Maddie permeated his thoughts through the day.

Once Steve was gone, Maddie went back upstairs to change. There was no interview, or rather it was now done and she was confident Steve would soon accept her offer.

An eternity passed as he couldn't help but appraise Maddie, the time measured by the increments of the building pressure in and the growing length of his cock. Her hair draped over her left shoulder, very mature makeup, her eyes demurely rising to meet his, the collar of her blouse framing her chest - and what was that lace he saw underneath?, the skirt hugging her thighs, her near perfect legs smoothed with nylon, and those shoes!, one of which was dangling from her toes.

What seemed like forever was over in a moment when Steve snapped himself out of his spontaneous daydream.

"My goodness, honey. Did you have another interview today?" Steve managed to get out without his voice cracking.

"Oh no, Daddy. I thought today, we should do something a little special. And you look perfect by the way, just like I'd want if you were picking me up for a date," she said with a hint of giggle. "You set the bar very high."

"A DATE!"

Amidst the turmoil in his mind, Steve wasn't making any assumptions. He parried, "My women have to learn to keep up with me."

Flashing a satisfied smile, she reached down to put her shoe back on her foot. As she got off of the stool, the flash of a white garter strap distinctly caught Steve's eye. Maddie walked over to hug him.

Her arms gracefully wrapped around him as she leaned in with no hint of familial modesty. Her fragrance enveloped him in tendrils, searing the moment into his memory.

She moved back slightly, resting her hand on his chest. Lowering her voice and raising her doe eyes to him, she almost whispered, "You really do look handsome, daddy."

Unexpectedly, Maddie felt herself drawn at her waist into Steve. A flood of excitement and fear overcame her briefly as a notion that she was about to be taken came over her. As their bodies collided, she felt her hand snatched from his chest, and brought out to the side, and Steve led them in an unaccompanied dance.

Steve was fighting a losing battle to maintain his fatherly role. "Precious," he whispered into her hair. "You have been an especially wonderful part of my life since your mom died. I love you. I know that I have given you a hard time about everything you do here, but I want you to know that I appreciate it and wouldn't have it any other way."

Maddie felt herself melt into his chest. "Daddy, I wa..., need you so much. I couldn't ask for a better man to be with right now."

Silently they danced, both relishing the moment for the same unspoken reason. Steve felt Maddie press in tight and he was now certain that she could feel his erection.

The first half of dinner passed without a word spoken. Far from uncomfortable, the silence was overcome by lingering, questioning, contented gazes. The silence was broken when Maddie went to cross her legs under the table, the side of her foot way-too-slowly grazing against Steve's calf.