Family fucking is hot. I’ve known my friend Tiffany since I was a freshman. I’ve known her stepdad for two years, and I’ve been secretly staring at his hands for about ten months, thinking about whether the saying is true or not about the size of a man’s hands being comparable to how big his cock is. If so, oh my fuck I want to feel that cock!
She’s singing and dancing in the kitchen, making drinks for everyone; the music is so loud; he’s on my couch, nursing a whiskey and telling me about his house projects; his leg is touching my knee, and neither of us is moving away.
“Tiffany doesn’t stop talking about you,” he says, his voice dropping to a whisper as if it were a secret between us. “She says you’re trouble.”
“Yeah?” I should go to the other room. I don’t get up out of curiosity. “What else has she said?”
“That I should keep an eye on you cause you’re a total whore!” His eyes drag down me slowly, and I feel it everywhere. “She’s right, isn’t she?”
The blender cuts off in the kitchen. We both briefly stop talking. It starts again, and something in me snaps loose with it.
“She’ll be in there for a lil while longer,” I whisper, and it is one of the naughtiest things I’ve ever said to her step-dad.
He narrowed the space between us in one move, hand sliding up my thigh under my skirt, and I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood because I was dripping wet, already grinding against the palm of a man whose wife thinks I’m “such a nice girl.”
“Fuck,” he moaned against my neck. “We really shouldn’t! You’re my stepdaughter’s best friend.”
“Then tell me to stop,” I gasp, and pull him closer.
His fingers push inside me, and I have to shove my face into the couch cushion to stay quiet, the blender roaring twenty feet away, her laugh floating through the wall, and I come shaking and silent with his hand clamped over my mouth, my best friend’s stepdad’s wedding ring cold against my thigh.
He sucks up all my juices thirty seconds before she walks in with three glasses and no idea.
“Margaritas!” she announces.
Takes his with a steady hand. I take mine with shaking one, and he catches my eye over the rim and mouths two words that make my stomach drop straight between my legs:
Yeah. Ok.
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