Though not intended to be the next "chapter," for many of you who read my "Step-Daughter Watches" series, this will seem so. This story stands on its own, but your understanding of my story will be enhanced if you first read my S/D Watches series.
I don't know if there will be any follow-on to this story.
As always, constructive and appreciative comments are welcomed.
All persons are 18 or over.
WHITE SWAN
I shouldn't be facing this dilemma again.
I shouldn't be faced with lustful thoughts about my youngest stepdaughter.
I shouldn't have to figure out if she's aware of what she's doing to me.
And... I shouldn't be wondering if she knows about me and her older sister, Ashley.
But here I am. Once again overwhelmed by a mountain of conflicting emotions rattling around in my head... and the raging hard-on I'm madly stroking as the water from the showerhead cascades down my body.
My second marriage had sexually evolved into something I could never have imagined.
My wife and I have enjoyed a very healthy sex life from our first date – which ended with her taking my hand and leading me upstairs to her bedroom, past the closed bedroom doors of her two daughters. I admitted to her several months later that the thought of having sex in her room, even with the door closed, with her daughters sleeping nearby was surprisingly erotic and naughty and had heightened my excitement, and, as she reminded me, my vocal chords.
I didn't meet her daughters until a few weeks later, but was relieved to discover that they were cute, and charming.
While dating, if we finished the night at her place, we were always careful to make sure that they were in bed before we satisfied our carnal desires, thought there were several times when we had to scramble to gather ourselves when we heard one of their doors open – not wanting them to come downstairs and see their mothers head in my lap, her mouth sliding up and down my cock as she encouraged me to fill her mouth with my seed.
We also both discovered, during one of our phone chats, that we'd each experimented in the group sex/swinging arena and were interested in furthering our experiment together. We attended a few parties and enjoyed getting together with a few other couples, but always at either someone else's home or my condo.
At some point, about two years after we started dating, she had become comfortable with me spending the night. My wife is very comfortable with her body and even before we were married, would often walk around her house in her bra and panties, even in my presence. It seemed quite natural to her and her daughters, and she would tease me about being a prude when I would make sure I was always wearing either my pajama bottoms or a pair of running shorts whenever her daughters were around. I remember her gently patting my arm and sweetly smiling at me and saying, "Don't be silly, it's perfectly natural," when I mentioned to her that she should warn the girls when I was there so they didn't walk downstairs in the morning wearing only panties and a t-shirt. Eventually, after we were married, even I grew comfortable walking around the house in my boxer briefs and a t-shirt.
It was shortly after my oldest step-daughters 18th birthday that my 'problems' fully surfaced. Both step-daughters readily accepted my presence in their life and it was easy to forget that they weren't actually my daughters. It was quite common for one or the other of them to sit on my knee or in my lap and give me a big hug and rest their head on my chest or shoulder and watch TV with me, the other step-daughter and my wife similarly situated on the couch.
But as the oldest one, Ashley, matured and passed through puberty, it was becoming clear that she had her mothers' genetics and by the time she turned 18, watching her walk around in her bra and panties, not to mention sitting in my lap, had begun to cause my cock to twitch, regardless of my desire to behave.
The summer after her graduation, I was convinced that Ashley would intentionally find an excuse to wiggle her ass against my crotch, enjoying the discomfort she caused me as my cock stiffened against her.
Though it took a few years, it seemed a short trip as we progressed from her wiggling her ass in my lap, to catching her sneaking upstairs from her basement bedroom to try to watch her mother and I having sex in the living room or in the hot tub out back, and finally, to the full consummation of our incestuous relationship in her mid-twenties.
And while I had definitely enjoyed the sexual part of my relationship with Ashley, I knew it wouldn't last forever and, in fact, she eventually married and the sexual side of our relationship had to be throttled back to the point that we were only able to find an opportunity to get together a few times in the last couple years.
All the while, her younger sister, Heather, also passed through puberty and had developed into a beautiful young woman.
Their body shapes are different as night and day. Ashley is a typically and beautifully proportioned woman with child-bearing hips and a small waist, complimented by her C cup breasts.
Heather, on the other hand, has the lithe body of a dancer, and at 5'-5" is taller than Ashley, but her hips are not nearly as curvy and her legs are long and toned from all the years of competitive dancing. Her breasts are smallish and less developed than most of her friends, but they are the very definition of "tiny titties."
In my opinion, however, her most impressive feature is her incredibly toned ass. It is perfectly shaped and begins its gentle, but firm rise from the top of her very, very long legs. It is small and compact, no doubt a result of the narrow shape of her hips.
My familiarity with her shape is the result of her pre-dance stretching routine, which consists of rolling her warm-up mat out on the floor, and stretching and limbering up before her mother or I take her to the studio. Most of the time, she asks her mother to help her with her flexibility warm-up exercises, and I had begun enjoying subtly watching as her skin-tight leotard would hug her ass and crotch so tightly during some of her exercises that I could see the crease dividing the mounds of her pussy.
Recently, however, it seemed to me that her most 'exposing' stretches seemed to be performed with her crotch facing directly at me. My personal favorite is when she raises one leg and grabs her ankle and raises her leg so high that it is pressed against her face, as if she were doing the splits while standing on one leg. This causes her leotard to stretch so tightly against her pussy that it leaves little to the imagination.
It also reminded me of a prima ballerina that I had dated several years before I met my wife and how she would strike this position in the nude so I could walk up and slide my cock into her pussy while her leg was pressed between our bodies. It permitted the deepest and tightest penetration of any position I'd ever tried and never failed to result in our bodies crashing to the floor as we both trembled in post-orgasm bliss.
I have tried, and failed, to replicate this position with my wife, only to have her tease me about spending too much time at the dance studio watching the dancers stretch and warm up.
I have assisted Heather with her stretching exercises now and then, but find that I'm hesitant to help her because my mind and cock conspire together, with every electric jolt that I feel when I touch her, to cause my heart to pound in my chest and my cock to swell.
It was on just such an occasion that our relationship changed.
Heather came into the family room for her normal Saturday morning stretching. I was sitting in my recliner, sipping a cup of coffee and catching up on the latest sports news on TV.
I was looking forward to being distracted by her array of positions and was barely pretending to watch TV, as she bent and twisted her body and we talked about a variety of monotonous subjects to break the silence in the room.
I knew the affect watching her would have on me, but wasn't particularly concerned about it since I had the newspaper spread across my lap. It wasn't until she asked me to help her that I remembered that her mother had gone to meet one of her girlfriends for a cup of coffee at the local specialty coffee shop, and, more importantly, I was sitting there in my boxer briefs.
My feeble argument for not helping her fell on deaf ears as she reminded me that her mom wasn't around and she needed help so I was the only one left. She paused her preliminaries and stood with one hand on her hip, cocked her head and said, "Come on dad, please."
I told myself that I was the stronger person and could keep my thoughts on the clinical and technical aspects of helping her and prevent my cock from humiliating me.
