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When I move my legs over his lap, my mouth turns dry as I feel Lance’s hard cock—it’s tenting his pants and pushing against my legs, making my insides burn even more fiercely. I want to look at him, to let my eyes wander down to his crotch, but I still myself; I don’t dare do it, afraid of what might happen, so I keep my eyes glued to the TV. By now, all I see is a blur in front of me. My brain is busy with trying to picture his cock, imagining how it would feel rolling down my lips...
My eyes might be frozen in place, but I can’t say the same about the rest of my body. I move my legs again, opening them even more as I lift my knees and rest my feet over his lap. My heart is racing now, my feet so close to his crotch that all I need to do is move them an inch to feel his hardness. I almost feel nauseous, rationality and desire locked into a bloody fight inside my brain. Whatever it is that’s happening here, I’m not sure if I’m going to be able to stop it. Or if I’m going to want to stop it.
While I’m struggling internally, Lance’s fingers keep massaging my legs, drawing closer to my inner thighs with each passing second. My unconscious pulling the strings of my body, I part my legs wide, allowing Lance’s hands to start rubbing the tanned skin on inner thighs, his fingers pressed on the line where the hem of my shorts and skin meet. My God, I’m so wet right now. My fingers twitch slightly, and I almost grab his hand and press it against my pussy—somehow, I manage to restrain myself, my heart on the verge of bursting.
His fingers go just one inch above the hem of my shorts, and my feet start moving as if they have a mind of their own, rubbing Lance’s leg over his jeans, much in the same way he’s doing to me. My feet roam dangerously close to his crotch, but he says nothing. Neither of us wants to be the one to break, but if we keep going like this… It’s going to happen, sooner or later.
I’m aching to let my feet move just an inch upward, to feel his hard cock pushing against me… More than anything I have ever wanted in my life, I want to do it. Take a hold of yourself, Jocelyn, I hear the voice of reason whispering at me. Get out now! It continues, act your age! Lance is young, and young boys can’t control themselves, but you can, Jocelyn. You can.
Look, I know, I know: he’s my stepson, and he’s fifteen years my junior. I know all that. But after so long without feeling a man’s cock getting hard for me… After so long without feeling someone burning with desire for me... There’s only so much that I can resist. But I need to do the right thing, and I need to do it now: I grit my teeth and try to command my body to move, to get out of the couch. For a split second, I almost think I’ll be able to do it, but at the last moment, what my body does is allow my feet to brush against the steel-hard shape under Lance’s jeans.
Do you know why people fear heights? It’s not because they’re afraid of falling; it’s because they’re afraid of jumping down, the pull of the abyss too much for them. And that’s exactly what I’m going through in this exact moment, but there’s no fear anymore, because I’ve already jumped down. Like I said, the pull of the abyss can be overwhelming. Especially when the abyss looks so irresistible.
I let my feet wander over to his crotch and I hold my breath as I feel his thick shape straining against the rough fabric of his jeans. Remembering to breathe again, I use both my feet to gently press down on his erection, softly rubbing on it. I move them in a back and forth motion, massaging his cock and feeling it pulse against me. I can hear the distant whisper of rationality inside of me, but I’m too far gone to listen to it. I’m all out of brakes now - and I’m on a collision course with sin.
Lance says nothing for a long while, his fingers still moving over my inner thighs, but I feel his muscles brimming up with tension. Finally turning to me, he cuts through the silent tension, his words coming at me heavy and coiled.
“What are we doing?” he says, his eyes on mine. I have no idea what we’re doing, but I know what I want to do right now.
Run, run, I hear that little whisper inside of me. Leave now while you still can.
Without saying a word, I take my feet out from his lap, my eyes never leaving his.
Go now, the whisper continues. Go now and don’t look back.
But it’s already too late. I lean over to Lance, and pressing my lips against his ear, I purr.
“Can you keep a secret?”
Lance
“Can you keep a secret?” Jocelyn asks me, and I see a wicked gleam of desire running through her eyes. It takes all my concentration to not cum in my pants right there with her body straddling my lap. Her pussy rubbing itself on my erection.
I nod my head, unsure of what else to say.
Before I know what’s happening, Jocelyn leans forward. I can smell her perfume and my nostrils flare up.
She’s looking directly at me. But as she’s looking she’s using one hand and all of a sudden I feel her trace the outline of my pulsing cock through my jeans.
She begins to squeeze it lightly. Up and down. Until she reaches the tip. She’s like an expert shoe salesman. Only she’s not. She’s my dad’s new wife, and as much as I fucking hate him, she’s still his wife. That makes her my fucking stepmom.
But that’s not enough for me to stop her. My cock throbs in sweet pleasurable agony at this point and I can feel precum leaking out as Jocelyn massages the tip through my jeans.
My eyes open in amazement at the sheer licentiousness of the situation as she squeezes length of my shaft up to the top, where she runs her palm around the head.
“Jesus, Lance,” she says with a sharp intake of breath. “Your cock is huge. I’ve never known anyone that has a cock this big.”
That’s what they all say. Twelve fucking inches, remember? Twelve inches that I told you if you had met me, you’d even want to put inside of you.
I can’t help it. I’m getting carried away in this situation. Lust is clouding my thoughts.
My face contorts into a nasty sneer of pride. “It’s even bigger out of it’s jeans, baby,” I say without thinking. It’s not my stepmom in front of me anymore. It could be any girl.
Although no girl could be as fucking hot as her.
“I could tell it was big,” she says, drawing her words out in a breathy whisper. “Just not this big.”
Jocelyn bends in closer, this time with a nervous anticipation on her part and begins to unzip my fly. She slowly slides it down and undoes the button.
