Daddy sighed with satisfaction. My body was wrecked and sore, exhausted but satisfied. He lingered in my embrace, against the glass wall, before softly pulling out of me. His shirt was falling off and one of the buttons was torn. His expensive suit pants were drenched from my wetness. I'm sure I looked even more ragged, the way Daddy had abused my aching body.
We slumped into a nearby leather couch, and Daddy held me as we struggled to catch our breath. Daddy kissed me tenderly on the mouth.
"I'm the one who was wrong last night, Laura," Daddy said. "You and I belong together. I don't give a damn what anybody else has to say. Let them say it. I love you."
"And I love you," I said, gazing intently into Daddy's eyes.
"Good," he replied. "From now on, I'll never let you go."
Naughty Little Brat
The debutante's ball is only days away, but innocent Abbi never was much of a dancer. Now she's learning some new moves from the man who raised her. In Christoph's strong arms, Abbi tries to put aside her forbidden feelings. She doesn't want to give in to temptation, but she can't help herself when Christoph is so close ... and feels so right.
Poor little Abbi. In spite of the dancing lessons, her high-society debut is an absolute disaster. Only Christoph can save his sweet and naive princess from total humiliation. Abbi is so grateful, she submits to her taboo desires, and Christoph gives Abbi a night that neither of them will ever forget.
And Abbi is far more fertile than Christoph ever expected.
I.
My stepfather twirled me in his arms, patiently teaching me to dance. His moves were graceful, elegant, and smoldering with sex appeal. I tried to ignore the fit of his expensive, dark suit-a suit that had been tailored to complement my stepfather's tight, athletic body. If I'm being honest, it drove me absolutely wild.
Focus, Abbi! I scolded myself.
It wasn't fair that I shared a roof with such a gorgeous man. I'd been smitten with Christoph ever since I was a little girl. But right now, I had to put all of those naughty thoughts aside. I needed to learn everything from him as soon as possible because the debutante's ball was coming up in less than a week. Unfortunately, I was born with two left feet.
Wearing my sports bra and pink gym shorts, I tried my best to follow his lead. My long, dark hair flew and whipped my face each time he spun me to and fro.
"That's it, Abbi, you're doing fine," my stepfather said, boosting my confidence as he turned my body and pulled me close. His left hand was tucked firmly against the small of my back, holding me tight. His right hand was clasped in mine. Holding hands with him, it reminded me of the times when I was a little girl and he was helping me to cross a busy street.
///
With my head against his shoulder I breathed in deeply, enjoying his familiar smell, an intoxicating mix of leather, aftershave and man. I've always loved that smell, ever since Christoph married my mom when I was six. Although we're not blood-related, he has never let that get in the way of our relationship. I'm his little girl, and he's the closest thing to a dad I've ever had, or ever wanted.
When I was a little girl I loved watching Christoph dance with my mom. They seemed to be so in love. I used to fantasize that someday I would be the one dancing so beautifully with my strong, tall stepfather.
Now, after all these years, I was all grown up, and I finally had an excuse to dance with Christoph, to touch him and hold him tight. He guided me across the impromptu dance floor that we had created by pushing all the furniture against the wall, freeing up space on the hardwood floor of our living room.
"Just follow my lead as I move to the rhythm of the music," he soothed.
Just then, he turned left and I turned right. I nearly fell as I tumbled out of his grasp.
"This is useless!" I pouted. "I'll never learn in time."
Christoph grabbed me by my shoulders, forcing me to look him in the eye. I must have been glistening from the exertion. My stepfather gently brushed a bead of sweat away from my forehead, then tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear to keep it out of my eyes.
"Don't be so hard on yourself, princess," he said. "You're learning fast. With a teacher as smooth as I am, soon you'll be the belle of the ball."
He smiled, and I giggled in spite of myself. Christoph took my laughter as a sign that my pity party was over. He grabbed me again, and the next thing I knew we were dancing in unison, practically floating across the living room floor. I gave in to his guidance and found that I could follow him almost intuitively, as though our bodies were attached, operating as one.
"That's what I'm talking about, princess!" my stepfather beamed. "Now you're getting the hang of it!"
"Thank you, Daddy," I smiled, glad that I could make him proud of me.
I leaned my head back into my stepfather's shoulder and smiled contentedly. With a dance partner like my stepfather, I felt safe and secure letting him take control. He guided me expertly in wide, slow circles around the room, our bodies in tune with the music. The next song was a slow ballad, and Christoph's grip tightened against my back, our hips swaying together sensually. I loved the feeling of my stepfather's body pressed against mine. At six feet, two inches, he stood about a head taller than me. I could feel the firm muscles of his chest rising and falling when he breathed. Without even realizing it, my own inhalations began to fall in line with his rhythm, as though our deep breaths were dancing together, too.
Christoph was wearing an expensive suit. Earlier in the evening, when he had gotten home from his day at the law firm, I was so eager to begin our lesson I hadn't even given him time to change. He had tossed his dark suit jacket over one of the sofas, then taken me in his arms. He had always called me his little princess, but now I truly felt like I belonged to him, that I wasn't just a stepdaughter. That I was something more.
With his hand still cradling the small of my back I felt little bolts of electricity shooting from his open palm and fingertips. If he would only slide his hand just a few inches lower, I fantasized, he'd grab a handful of my round little butt. The idea of my stepfather squeezing my ass filled me with excitement. It was so naughty, even to contemplate. I sensed my arousal rising, the warm wetness gathering between my legs.
I could feel my nipples tightening, and my clit felt tingly, pulsating and warm, which made me even wetter. I couldn't think about anything other than my desire to be filled by a fat, juicy cock for the first time in my life. I was eighteen years old and extremely curious.
Without even realizing it, I had started to rub myself against my stepfather. It felt so good I couldn't even think about anything else, losing myself in the pleasurable sensations filling my pussy. I started to grind against his leg, practically dry humping him. When I realized what I was doing my face turned bright red with embarrassment. Did Daddy have any clue that his sweet little stepdaughter was getting her rocks off just now? My God, I hope he wasn't paying attention.
Daddy didn't seem to notice. I pressed myself against him and rocked from side to side in unison with his body, my perky boobs pushing against his washboard stomach. My nipples were crushed against him, driving me wild. I knew I shouldn't be enjoying myself so much, but I couldn't help it. Daddy was the most handsome man in my life. What did it hurt, to enjoy myself a little bit? It was all very innocent.
///
Then I felt the bump-a hard little bump rising from Daddy's pants, poking my belly. I casually began to rock and sway my hips, like twirling a hula hoop, allowing my firm little tummy to massage and caress the bulge in Daddy's pants. It made me so excited to feel his swelling hardness that I wished I could drop to my knees and let him dominate me with his cock. I'd suck him off and drink down his hot white cum.
Now I was getting really wet. Daddy and I were still dancing, but more slowly now, more sensually. If I could just unfasten his belt, then his cock would be mine. Then I remembered who I was dancing with-my own stepfather. I couldn't possibly. But I think he wants it, too. There's only one way to find out … I touched his belt, fumbling with the buckle.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, princess," Daddy groaned, staggering backward. It was like we had both snapped out of a dream. He was tucking his shirt back in and refastening his belt while simultaneously putting distance between us. "I think you've had enough lessons for one day."