Poolside Voyeurism Pt. 02 - Sex Stories

Poolside Voyeurism Pt. 02

I toss restlessly in my king size bed, hiding from the street lights peeking through the windows. My wife is passed out peacefully beside me, her porcelain skin shining in the darkness. Her thin silky night gown has ridden high on her bared thighs and her generous tits are threatening to tumble free. Her dark curls are tumbled wildly across the pillow and she looks stunning. I run my hand hungrily up her thigh, relishing in the way she moans softly in her sleep. Her hands reactively grabbing the sheets as her thighs squeeze together. Her nightgown pulls higher and my breath catches as I realize she's not wearing anything underneath. The things this woman does to me, she is beyond perfect.

I feel the guilt of my earlier actions blooming in my chest. I had zero complaints in my marriage, our relationship was anything but sexless. My wife turned heads everywhere she went, I swear she only got more tempting with age. My stepdaughter, Clara, looks so much like her, maybe that's the truth behind my transgression. The memory of her lean, naked body is haunting my thoughts again. I find myself needing space to clear my head.

Pushing off from the bed, I nimbly prow through our dark bedroom and down the hall towards the kitchen. Restlessness is one problem alcohol could absolutely solve, though I had sworn to myself that I'd work on cutting back. If there were ever a time to break a resolution, it was now. I pulled a cold one out of the fridge, deftly popping the lid and downing ...

... half the bottle. I wipe my lips on the back of my band and glance down the hall towards my stepdaughter's room. I could see light filtering through her cracked door.

Damn girl, I've gotten onto her so many times lately about leaving the lights on. The rates on our electric are through the roof and, lord knows, she won't be chipping in on bills. I'd promised my wife she could live part time at home for free so long as she stayed in school. It's not like we couldn't afford it, but it drives me nuts how wasteful she always is.

I creep down the hall, a place of empty bedrooms and memories. This house is much too large now that our kids have all grown and flown the nest, all except our baby girl. Our family was a mix of kids from previous relationships. My stepdaughter was just starting school when I walked into her life, and now she's a young adult nearing her college graduation. If I wasn't drowning in my shame, I'd probably be a little emotional right now. She might not be my blood, but she's always been so special to me. I'd tragically lost a daughter of my own and Clara's father walked out on her without so much a phone call or a birthday card. We were two broken souls who needed each other to heal. I accepted her as my own from day one, that makes all my thoughts today so much worse.

Just as I am about to enter her room to shut off her bedside lamp, I am stopped in my tracks once again. Clara is on top of her blankets, leaned forward on her knees. One delicate hand ...