Very NOT Worksafe Teaser

“Thought I told you I don’t give a fuck what you say, Jimmy-boy. You’re not my father, and this isn’t your house.” His stepson flipped him the finger before pushing his girlfriend inside the house and closing the door behind them. “Let’s go to my room,” he said in a stage whisper, leading the girl toward the stairs. “We won’t be bothered there.”

The fucking brat let go of Beth’s arm long enough to squeeze her ass, and turned to throw a wink at James. It was all James could do not to smash the bottle on the boy’s head.

“Michael!” Beth swatted Michael’s hand away and skipped up the rest of the stairs.

“Come on, baby. You know you love it.” Michael caught up with her at the top of the staircase and threw her over his shoulder, obviously uncaring of how that gave James a perfect view of the girl’s virginal cotton white panties.

James wanted to go upstairs, barge into his stepson’s bedroom, toss Michael on his ass, and then screw Michael’s fucking girlfriend on Michael’s fucking bed.

What was also wrong was that James hadn’t stopped wanting several variations of that scenario since last summer, when Beth had first come to see Michael. All prim and proper, she’d been like a breeze of fresh air. Chatty, bubbly, bouncy, with innocent green eyes and rosy cheeks. And that fiery red hair…

James wanted to touch that hair, feel it caress his face, tickle his chest as she rode him. He wanted to fist his hands in it as he fucked her mouth. Wanted to use it as reins while he took her from behind.

He’d never felt so much like a pervert, until he’d met Beth. He hadn’t stopped feeling like one in the year since. Even after Michael had gone back to college and Beth had stopped dropping by, James had kept fantasizing about ripping her clothes off and taking her on the dining room table, in front of his wife and stepson; of sneaking up into the bathroom after her and pounding her against the wall; of following her home and making her suck his cock in a dark alley…

Patricia had no clue—of course Patricia would have no clue—that the only reason her husband had started wanting her on a nightly basis was a—then—nineteen year old college girl. His wife didn’t know the man who’d exchanged vows of eternal devotion with her thought of a juicy, barely legal, cunt every time he sunk his fingers or cock inside her. Patricia was just happy in her perfect little family dream, blissfully ignorant of how it could all burst in the seams if one Beth Knowles bent down to tie her shoelaces in front of James just One. More. Time.

And his stupid, cocksure ass of a stepson kept bringing her home even afterJames had told him he didn’t want the two of them fucking while he was around. When James had said it was disrespectful, Michael had replied he owed him no respect, so James had had Patricia talk to the boy. In the end, they’d all agreed that Michael wouldn’t…entertain when his mother wasn’t around. James hadn’t found it wise to mention when Michael made Beth scream, he could pound Patricia into the mattress with a hand over her mouth, and imagine Beth’s screams were for him.

As if on cue, Beth’s giggle came from upstairs. “We shouldn’t. Your stepdad is here.”

Michael said something, gaining himself another giggle, and her protests were soon replaced by soft moans and the creaking of bedsprings.

Cursing the lack of sound-proofing in the house, James took another beer out of the fridge, popped it open and planted himself on the couch in front of the television. Even the volume set at maximum level didn’t manage to drown out the distinctly Beth mewls. They echoed in his brain; they were burned inside his mind, together with visuals of how her face would look contorted in ecstasy.

He squeezed his eyes shut, rubbed at them with the heels of his hands. He was twenty years her senior, for fuck’s sake. He was the big, round, four-oh when she was still a year from the legal drinking age. James remembered her previous birthday. Patricia had told him Michael wanted money to take his little girlfriend somewhere…special. The following morning, things had gotten immensely worse for James’s peace of mind, as his stepson had unsolicitedly informed him he’d scored.

He flicked through channels until he found Animal Planet. The mating rituals of cabbage worms or some such should take care of his hard on.

Still hard half an hour later, he dared turn down the volume to check if the sounds had stopped. Heavenly silence met his ears, and he sighed in relief. If things went as usual, in about another twenty minutes they’d be asleep, and he’d be able to go to his room and jerk off until his dick was chaffed.

Things didn’t go as usual.

The floor behind him creaked, and he turned his head to see Beth, fully dressed and as perfectly coiffed as before—not even a hair loose from her ponytail—tiptoeing toward the living room.

Startled, she jumped back a little. “Thought you were asleep.”

“Just watching TV.” He turned toward the screen again. “Thought you were busy.”

“We were. Then Michael finished…being busy before I did, and is now snoring.” She laughed and circled the couch to sit next to him. “Anything good on?” She indicated the television with a tilt of her head.

Her perfume was saturating his senses, pulling him to her, drowning out all reason. Her arms were crossed, pushing her breasts upward, stretching her top taut against their swell, and causing James’s mouth to water. He had to get away from that perfume with the undertones of sex. He had to get far away from those breasts.

“See for yourself.” He jumped up and carelessly tossed her the remote.

She ignored it and got up after him. “Where are you going?”

“Can I have one?” She followed him to the kitchen, standing too close for comfort when he opened the fridge. He could brush her thighs with his fingers if he wanted to. He could pretend to look at the lower shelves and take another sneak peek under her skirt. Her panties would be wet now. She’d be wet from fucking his stepson, and still he wouldn’t mind eating her out. He wouldn’t mind at all lifting her up and laying her on the kitchen table, spread-eagled, and eating her pussy, widening her hole with his fingers before sticking his cock inside her and giving her the hardest fuck of her life.

She was just two steps behind him.

“Now, where are you going?” she asked.

He refused to look at her, knowing she’d still be pouting. “To my room.”

He could hear her coming closer. “Changed my fucking mind.”

“Mr. Williams?” she called out when he was half-way up the stairs.

With a sigh, he paused and glanced back at her. “What?”

She ran upward and stopped just one step below him. “Why don’t you like me?”

The question threw him, and he turned to face her.

“Why don’t you like me?” she asked again. “Everyone else does, but you’re always growly and rude and…why?”

“What is it about me that pisses you off?” she asked, suddenly sounding older. “If you just give me a chance, I’m sure you’ll see I’m really a sweethea—”

“I don’t want to give you a chance.” His throat was suddenly dry.

She narrowed her eyes, still not letting go of his arm. “Why?”

He couldn’t take it any longer. Couldn’t take her lips so close to his. Couldn’t stand how her fingers burned his skin, how he could see down her cleavage.

He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her harshly against him. “Liking you would end up with me balls deep inside you, and you screaming my name,” he said in a rough whisper. “Is that what you want?”

No words came out of her lips, and James decided to up the stakes. He had to make her run away, because his self restraint was worn dangerously thin. Without warning, he spun her the other way and pinned her arms against her body. “Do you want me to bend you over the railing and fuck you? ’Cause that’s all I can think of when I see you bouncing. I think of you bouncing on my cock.”

She tried to turn and face him, but he tightened his grip and brought his free hand to her lips. “Every time you smile, I think of these lips wrapped around my cock, Beth. I think of you gagging and me pushing in deeper.” His hand kneaded a breast, his brain hoping she’d protest, that she’d fight him. “I think of coming on these breasts. Think of spurting on them, of making you rub my cum in.” His fingers ran a trail down her stomach, to her sex. He bunched up the material of her skirt so his knuckles brushed her soaked panties. He’d known she’d be wet. Wet because of Michael—of the fucker who’d had the luxury of being inside her body. James’s ire rose, and he pressed his knuckles harder against the place he longed to be buried in.

“And don’t get me started on this. The things I want to do to this…they’d make you run away screaming, or come back begging for more.” His index finger unfolded from his fist of its own volition and ran down the length of her lower lips over the soft cotton. “Now do you see why I shouldn’t likeyou, Beth?”

No reply came. She was trembling in his arms. He guessed she was crying. That was good. Now she’d hate him and stay away from his fucking house.

“Now do you see why I shouldn’t like you?” he asked again.

She shook her head and spread her legs a bit to rub her mound against his hand.

It wasn’t reason that led James’s actions from that point on. His conscious mind pulled down the shutters and went on holiday, while instinct and repressed desire took over. He pressed his hips against hers, led her to the railing, and fisted his hand in her hair to bend her forward. The time for talking was over. Now he needed to act. To feel.

He flipped her skirt up with his free hand and couldn’t hold back from smacking one cotton-covered buttock. She moaned, and he did it again. “Make another fucking sound, and I’ll make sure you can’t walk for a week,” he hissed in her ear.

She bobbed her head yes and kept silent while he pushed her panties aside to plunge two fingers inside her. She wouldn’t need preparation. Other than already being soaking wet, she’d had another dick inside her minutes ago.

Still holding her by the hair, he popped all the buttons of his jeans with one hard tug to his fly, freed his cock, and buried his entire length inside her. She bucked and tensed but didn’t try to pull away, pressing harder against him instead.

There was no way he’d last if he didn’t slow down, he knew it. But he didn’t care about lasting. He didn’t even care about her release. His entire being had needed this for so long, he couldn’t hold back if his life depended on it.

He folded his body over hers and whispered, “This is my turn. You’ll get yours.” When she strained to look at him over her shoulder, he met her mocking gaze seriously. “That’s a promise.”

She nodded and started rocking against him harder, faster. Her pussy was strangling him, the slapping sound every time his pelvis smacked her ass was music to his ears, but what made him adamant that this—they—would happen again, every chance he got, was the way she chanted his name under her breath.

Seeing her shake her head almost had the effect of a cold shower.

He pulled out and used his grip on her hair to make her turn and kneel in front of him. The stairs weren’t that wide, and she instinctively tried to pull back and find her balance, but he’d have none of that. “Suck me.”

She did as she was told and didn’t even flinch when his cum hit the back of her throat the moment her lips closed around his shaft. She sucked as much of his length as she could inside her mouth, gulping down his spendings, flicking her tongue over the underside until he was entirely drained.

Then she looked at him, those big green eyes wide with mock-innocence. “Now, do you like me?”

He wanted to laugh and cry and tell her that not only did he like her, but he’d also be her slave forever, and he’d start by making her come so hard that she’d pass out with ecstasy. Instead, he helped her up and kissed her fiercely, enjoying the taste of himself on her lips and tongue.

“I like you,” he said when they broke apart for breath.

Michael’s door opened, then slammed shut. They hurriedly put some distance between them and straightened their clothes.

Guilt hit James full force as he took the stairs two at a time to get back to the couch before Michael wondered why the two of them were walking upstairs together. He was a bad man who’d taken advantage of an innocent girl, disregarding society, family, and his own self-respect.

That should never happen again.

He heard Michael ask Beth if she’d gotten any sleep.

“Nope. I decided to utilize my time better.”

Glancing back, James saw Michael’s hulking form hugging her from behind, the two dragging their feet down the stairs.

“I had a nice chat with your stepfather,” Beth said. “We hit it off, and now I can come by anytime I feel like it.” She winked at James. “And he apologized for acting the way he did, and now he owes me.”

Maybe he needed to punish her next time, after she’d had her turn.

Maybe he should make her call him Daddy.