"That's your stepmom?" More than one of them asked. "Jesus, you lucky bastard!"
Because I knew her as Clarissa for months before she married my dad, I never got into the habit of calling her "Mom" or anything like that. We were just on first name basis with each other, and she was fine with that.
Whenever I had football or soccer games, Clarissa was always there, being the loyal mother. My dad's job got progressively more difficult as he advanced in his company. He spent more and more time traveling, and less time at home. By the time of my senior year, he was pretty much a road warrior and spent only one or two days a week at home, usually on the weekends. Most of the days he was traveling, often internationally, and sometimes even spent two to three weeks away from home at a time.
Clarissa had always been a subject of fantasy for me. I felt odd, at the time even thinking about it, but I fantasized about her constantly. My thoughts of her deep in the nights often led to a masturbation session as I imagined myself having sex with her in a variety of bizarre ways. I was conflicted internally about my feelings for her for years.
It didn't help matters that my dad and Clarissa had a rather vigorous technique for sex. Early in their relationship, I would often hear a rhythmic thumping sound coming from their bedroom every night after bedtime. I figured out much later that it was the sound of the headboard thumping into the wall as they fucked.
When I was sixteen, I had just started driving and went out for the evening. I expected to be out until midnight, and had permission from my dad to be out that late. However, I discovered that my friends that I was supposed to meet had ditched me, and weren't where I expected to find them. Pissed off, I decided to head back home.
I guess Dad and Clarissa thought that they had the house to themselves, because I figured out the second I walked in the door what they were up to. From the thumping of the headboard, and Clarissa's excited screams, I knew they were having crazy screaming sex in their bedroom. They didn't hear me come in, because with as much noise as they were making, I could have had the high school marching band come in with me and they wouldn't have heard a thing.
I know it was wrong of me to watch, but I couldn't help it. It was as if I was magnetically drawn to take in the scene.
I crept down the hall. As I approached their bedroom I saw their reflection in a mirror on the wall opposite of their bed. My dad was on top of Clarissa. They were both stark naked. From my viewpoint, I could see my dad's cock, glistening with her moisture, sliding in an out of her as he violently fucked her.
"Yes! Yes! Yes!" Clarissa voice was raised as she screamed each time his cock pounded into her.
She wrapped her legs around my father's waist as he slid in and out of her, and seemed to use her legs to pull him into her deeper. Her arms were around his torso, her nails digging into his back. Her breasts were violently heaving up and down as my dad slammed his cock home over and over.
"Oh fuck! I'm cumming!" Clarissa's voice was strained, her breath coming in ragged heaves.
I heard my dad cry out in ecstasy as he thrust himself home and began shuddering. Even as a sixteen-year old, uninitiated in sex, I knew that he was spilling his seed inside my stepmom.
They both shuddered and twitched on the bed as their orgasms consumed them, before my dad finally collapsed on top of her. She bore his weight without complaint.
I slunk silently down the hallway into my room. I stayed there for the rest of the evening as they continued to have sex in their room, the staccato rhythm of the headboard banging into the wall a painful reminder of what I had just witnessed, and what as a horny sixteen-year old I wanted to do myself.
I was so jealous of my father.
Chapter Two
About halfway through my senior year, I was eating breakfast one morning, and noticed Clarissa reading an information brochure that was obviously from an adoption agency.
"What's up with that?" I asked Clarissa.
"Oh, your father and I have been trying to get pregnant, and it isn't working. We're thinking about adopting."
"Oh," I was somewhat taken aback by this news.
"Is that OK, Preston?"
"Yeah, sure. I guess." I answered her sincerely. "It's just a bit of a surprise."
"We've been trying for years, ever since we got married. It just isn't happening." Clarissa looked intently at me.
"If you don't mind me asking, is there some sort of a problem?" I asked her, trying to understand what was going on.
"Well, I don't know if your dad would want me to tell you this, but the doctors say that he has a low sperm count. Its apparently a function of his age. They did some tests and stuff, and said his testosterone level is low, and so is his sperm count."
"Oh, I see." I was kind of stunned by her news.
"So with his travel schedule and the low sperm count thing, they chances of us conceiving naturally are pretty low. It could still happen, but it isn't very likely. That's why we started looking at adopting. He goes to China so much now, he says there's a lot of children there that need adopting."
I just looked at her as she explained that I might have a Chinese sibling. I said nothing.
"Anyway, we're just looking into it right now. We haven't decided anything. It's really expensive too!"
As I munched my way through my bowl of cereal in silence, Clarissa spoke again.
"Preston, you're OK with us having more children aren't you?"
"Oh sure. Not a problem. Just don't ask me to babysit," I told her cheerfully.
She laughed at my weak attempt at humor.
"Yeah, like that's gonna happen. I can't see you taking care of a baby unless it came with an instruction manual!" She laughed as she made fun of me.
At that time, I was in the middle of my longest high school romance. Her name was Tracey Jenkins. We met at a party one night and started dating. Within a month, we were having sex regularly. Her parents both worked long hours, and we had lots of time every afternoon together as she had the house to herself every day. She was on birth control, we were both constantly horny, and life was good. For a while.
In February, I sensed our relationship was starting to cool, as she always had an excuse about needing to study or some shit. Our sex sessions got less and less frequent. Then in early March they stopped altogether, and she texted me and said she wanted to "just be friends." Not long after, I found out through the grapevine that Tracey "God-damn-the-bitch" Jenkins was boinking one of the football players at our school, an obtuse idiot nicknamed "Moose." Although it hurt at the time, I bid good riddance to anyone that would hop in the sack with someone with a lukewarm IQ like that muscle-bound moron.
Clarissa sensed my despair, and without saying a word, spent extra time with me. We went to movies and she got me to do things to keep me occupied so that I wouldn't dwell on Tracey's betrayal.
As a result, we spent a great deal of time together in March. My dad, as usual, was traveling. This time on a lengthy trip to China and the Far East.
I should have known then that my dad leaving the two of us together for so long was, for both of us, like leaving the fox to guard the henhouse.
Chapter Three
Shortly after Tracey kicked me to the curb, I was at school one day and really started to feel like shit. I went to the school nurse, she felt my forehead and then took my temperature. I was running a fever of over 100 degrees. She sent me home, and I barely made it to my car and drove myself home after being dismissed.
At home Clarissa put me to bed after giving me Tylenol to reduce my fever. I ached all over, and didn't have any energy at all. I fell asleep quickly, even though wracked by violent chills as my diseased body fought off whatever was infecting me.
Later that afternoon, Clarissa woke me up. I was in bed wearing only my boxer shorts.
"Get up! I've got you an appointment at the doctor. We need to go now." Her voice had a sense of urgency about it.
I barely managed to get myself out of bed and my clothes pulled ont
o me. She helped me to the car and got me in, and then drove me to the doctor.
At the doctor's office, we found out that a particularly virulent strain of flu was making an appearance for the season, and that I had all the symptoms. They ran a test by shoving a long cotton swab up my nose and testing it. My eyes waters and nose stung, like I had been sucker punched, for several minutes after they took the sample. A few minutes later they came back with the results.
"Preston has a rip-roarin' case of the flu is what it looks like!" The doctor told us.
"No shit, Sherlock!" I thought to myself, feeling like I was going to die.
We got the prescriptions for TamiFlu, cough medicine and antibiotics and headed for home. Clarissa got me into bed and then headed back out to get my prescriptions filled. She came home and dosed me with all the medications.
For the next three days, I was sick as a dog. She took great care of me. She fed me chicken noodle soup, regularly gave me my medications and monitored my temperature. She doted on me as I basically slept off my case of the flu.
Friday evening, I woke up as she came into my room. I was wringing wet with sweat, and my sheets beneath me were soaking wet. But I actually felt human again. She got the thermometer and took my temperature.
"98.6°." Her voice was cheery, obviously glad to see that I was better. "Your fever finally broke.
"Hey!" she told me. "Why don't you go take a shower and get cleaned up. It'll make you feel better. Besides, you stink like a baby goat and I need to change your sheets."
"Sure." I laughed as I lay in my sweat-soaked bed.
I got up, wearing just a pair of sweat-soaked boxers and went to the shower. I turned on the water, waited for it to get hot, and then stepped in to feel the warm water course over me. Clarissa was right. The sensation of the water running over me was rejuvenating. I took a long leisurely shower, scrubbing my sweat-soaked body down and cleaning myself thoroughly.
After soaking under the water until I felt the water temperature dip, I realized I had run the hot water heater out of water. Reluctantly, I got out of the shower and toweled off. Not wanting to put my dirty boxers back on, I wrapped a towel around my middle and returned to my bedroom.
My bed was freshly made, with nice, crisp clean sheets. I dropped the towel, and not bothering with clean underwear, got into the bed naked. I pulled the sheet over my midsection and relaxed in the bed, laying on my back.
After just a few minutes, Clarissa knocked gently at my door, and then opened it and came in. She was carrying a tray with a bowl of the obligatory chicken noodle soup. She made hers from scratch, and it was so much better than what comes out of a can that I figured I could probably eat it every meal and never get tired of it.
"You look SO much better!" Her voice had a cheery air. She set the tray over me so that I could start eating, and then sat down on the edge of the bed.
Her hand raised up, and she gently touched it to the side of my face. I felt my cock begin to harden slightly at her touch.
"You've got your color back, and you look like you feel a lot better." Her voice was soft and gentle.
"Yeah, I feel great. You were right about that shower. It felt wonderful. I feel like a million bucks!" I told her.
"That's good to hear. I was very worried about you."
"Well, thanks for taking such good care of me," I told her sincerely.
"It was my pleasure. I'm just so glad you're better."
As I began eating my soup, I glanced down and noticed that she was wearing a simple pink tank top, with a simple short skirt. The lack of the telltale lines of a bra, and her erect nipples poking through the front betrayed the fact that she was braless under the thin cotton fabric.
I struggled to get the spoons of soup into my mouth as I kept feeling my eyes magnetically attracted to her fantastic tits.
I glanced up at her face and saw her smiling at me.
"I can tell you feel better!" She said with a laugh.
"What?" I asked innocently.
"I can see what you're looking at," she told me matter-of-factly.
"Sorry!" I mumbled, embarrassed at getting busted ogling my stepmom's tits, and also by the stirring in my cock as it hardened at the sight of her unrestrained boobs.
"Don't be sorry. I take that as a compliment."
"Well, they're just…so…amazing!" I barely managed to stammer out.
She looked at me long and thoughtfully. Her head cocked to one side as she seemed to ponder what to do.
"Would you like to see them?" She asked, breaking the lengthy silence.
My cock rapidly swelled to full attention.
"Yes," I said, struggling to keep the eagerness out of my voice.
Chapter Four
Clarissa reached down and grabbed the hem of her shirt with her arms crossed. She pulled it off over her head, exposing her breasts to me. I could only stare at them in amazement. The only time I had ever seen them bare was the time I watched my dad vigorously fucking her. I remembered how they bounced up and down with each hard stroke of his cock.
I stared wide-eyed at her breasts. They were large, probably a DD-cup if not larger. They were still firm and upright. They were capped with large brownish aureoles, the peak of each one sporting a hardened nipple, standing up about a quarter of an inch from her obvious excitement.
"You like?" she asked with a smirk.
"They're incredible." My voice cracked due to my nervousness.
She looked at me for several seconds.
"You can touch them if you want." Her voice was soft and sexy. I was grateful for the sheet that covered my raging boner.
Hesitantly, I reached out and took one of her erect nipples between my thumb and forefinger. As I gently rolled it between my digits, I looked at Clarissa's face. She had her eyes closed, and her head inclined slightly back, as if trying to heighten the sensations she was feeling. I heard her heave a sigh.
As I caressed her breast with one hand, I sat up in bed facing her. Then I lowered my head to her other breast, and delicately licked the other erect nipple with my outstretched tongue. I felt her shudder.
"Oh, Preston…" Her voice came out as a ragged moan.
As I laved one of her breasts with my tongue, my other hand kneaded and caressed the other one.
I felt her hand drop onto my sheet-encased cock, and grasp me through the sheet.
"Oh my!" Her voice betrayed a combination of excitement and delight. "I see someone has grown up to be quite the big boy!"
I didn't have that much of an idea at the time how I compared to other guys. I have since learned that I don't have any reason to be shy in the locker room. At 8+ inches fully erect, I have more than enough cock to get the job done.
I should have been tipped off by Tracey "Goddamnthebitch" Jenkins. She used to complain that I hurt her. I always insisted on leaving the lights on during sex with her, so that I could watch for facial expressions that would indicate I was penetrating too deeply.
Clarissa pushed me away from her breasts, and nudged me back into a reclining position. She slowly pulled the sheet down, exposing my cock. I was so hard from the excitement that my cock throbbed and pulsed with every beat of my pounding heart.
Without a word, Clarissa lowered her head to my crotch. Starting at the tip of my cock, she planted delicate butterfly kisses down the length of my shaft until she reached my scrotum, which was drawn up so tight I was afraid it would burst my balls. She licked and laved my balls, gently sucking one and then the other into her mouth and swirling her tongue over them.
I lifted my head up from my pillow to watch the sensuous sight of my gorgeous stepmom sucking my cock. I was in complete disbelief that this was happening. Years of pent-up fantasies was coming true as Clarissa joined me in my bed.
After kissing and sucking my balls, Clarissa gently took the length of my shaft into her mouth. I could feel the slight roughness of her tongue, swirling around the engorged head of my swollen cock.
"Jesus! You're
going to make me cum!" I groaned as I felt her rapidly driving me to my inevitable orgasm.
She immediately disengaged from my cock, and kissed her way up my body, until we came mouth to mouth. She kissed me furiously, our tongues darting about, seeking each other's flicking tongues. She disengaged from my mouth and slid her mouth close to my ear.
"I want you to come inside me!" She whispered fiercely.
"What?" I asked, genuinely surprised.
"I want to have your baby," her voice, a low whisper, had a sense of urgency to it.
"Jesus! Dad will fucking kill both of us!" I said, my voice raised in alarm.
"No!" Her voice remained a calm whisper in my ear. "He'll think the baby is his."
"He will?"
"Yeah, I promise." She drug out her words in a sexy hiss.
I felt her slide her leg over me, straddling me. She sat atop me, her skirt gathered at her waist. She wasn't wearing any panties either. She raised herself up slightly, reached down and gathered my cock in one hand, and guided it to her aroused opening. The sensitive head of my cock felt her moisture as it slid between the slippery outer folds of her pussy.
With a swift, hard motion, she impaled herself on my cock. She threw her head back and moaned as I entered her. Then she raised herself and heaved back down on my cock again. I sank in to the hilt. Unlike Tracey, who complained about the size of my cock hurting her, Clarissa groaned in appreciation as I filled her to capacity.
As excited and worked up as I was at this years-old fantasy coming true, I was mortified when I felt my orgasm rapidly hit me. With my cock fully seated into her, the head pressed up against her cervix, I felt the first of several streams of hot semen flow down the length of my cock and burst into her, covering her womb with my hot, sticky seed. I gasped as the full fury of my orgasm hit me, my cock heaving and pulsing, with each pulse firing another jet of my cum into her drenched pussy.
"Oh, shit!" I groaned in mortification. "I'm sorry I came so fast, Clarissa!"
The Breeding Bundle, Vol. II Page 7