Stepdad, Teach Me How to Masturbate - Sex Stories

Stepdad, Teach Me How to Masturbate

"Hey Stepdaddy," I said, walking into his room wearing only my new pink lace bra and cotton thong panties. "Hello honey," he said, looking up at me and smiling. Stepdad was a freelance writer and editor, so he worked at home; we'd changed the guest bedroom into his private office after he'd married my mom two years ago. It was right next door to my room, in fact, and that was convenient for me when I wanted to flirt with him. You see, I'd been trying forever to get my stepfather to have sex with me. But he absolutely wouldn't! It was driving me crazy! Now that I was 18, I wanted him to be my first. He was the only man I knew that cared about my and listened to me and treated me gently and respectfully. There were lots of boys at school who wanted to fuck me, but they were impatient and crass. I wanted nothing to do with them. My stepfather, now. He was a different story entirely. I loved his broad shoulders and trim waist -- no middle-aged spread on him -- and the touch of grey in his hair. So what if he was 22 years older than me? But he'd resisted all my advances, and all my flirtations. Since shortly after he'd married my mother, I'd been parading around in my bra and panties every time my mother left the house, especially during her frequent business trips. He smiled and often complimented me on my choice of color or style, but that was all. My breasts were really developing now; up an entire cup size in the last year. I took every chance to rub them against him, and he ...

... responded only by smiling at me. So far he hadn't so much as patted me on the ass! Hugs and good-night kisses were frequent but brief and ... well ... fatherly! That wasn't what I wanted at all. I knew it wasn't a question of attraction, however. The erections he got during these encounters were obvious, and he didn't try to avoid me or tell me to stop this behavior, and his eyes lingered on my athletic young body. He just wouldn't have sex with me! The frustration was getting to be too much for me. I stepped up to his desk and his eyes slid from my long golden legs all the way up to my breasts tightly held by the pink lace. "So what do you think?" I asked him. "Very nice," he said, smiling at me. "Yeah, I really like this bra. It feels really good, too, I like the way it holds my breasts ... some girls I know think lace itches, but I like it." "Me too." "Can I sit on your lap?" I asked sweetly. "Now honey," he said patiently, still smiling. "You know that's not appropriate." "Oh Stepdad!" I pouted. "I can't take it anymore! I think about you so much!" "I know you do, honey. But you know it's not appropriate for us to have sexual contact." "But how do you deal with it?" I said, hugging my arms together under my breasts and shivering, jumping up and down a little. "I get so hot around you! I want your hands on me!" He smiled affectionately at me. "Well, honey, frankly, I masturbate and I think about you. That helps me resist temptation." I smiled back at him. "Really?" "Yes, of ...