I never knew this. Is she telling me that she was forced to marry dad?
“It’s just that, I hadn’t had sex in over six months,” Jocelyn says and looks into my eyes as if imagining just a few hours ago. “I think we both got a little carried away.”
Oh, thank the Lord. She’s not going to make things difficult. This is going to be okay. Hopefully, we’ll be able to file this away and never have to think about it again. We can move on and not let this affect us.
Then why does it feel like she just punched me in the gut? I mean, I’m supposed to be feeling relieved right? Why does a part of me feel terrible?
But Jocelyn takes my silence for consent. She smiles.
“I’m glad we got this sorted,” she says and smiles even more. “I just wanted to make sure we talked about it, before it got…weird.”
Well guess what, Jocelyn. It’s already fucking weird. There’s no way it can get weirder.
After a moment, Jocelyn looks at her watch.
“I think I’ll head to bed then,” she says. She’s looking at me and I can tell she’s debating whether to give me a hug or a kiss. She decides against it when I just stand there silently. I’m not trying to be mean. If I fucking touch her, or she touches me, I’m not letting her go.
I know that if she tries to hug me and feels my throbbing 12-inch cock pulsing against her thigh, she’s going to go fucking crazy.
I know that if she runs her hands down my abs, I’m not going to stop. Nothing is going to keep me from my goal of ravaging her again and pumping obscene amounts of my fucking semen all over her gorgeous body.
So she instead looks away and turns her back toward me, walking to the stairs.
I can’t say that I don’t spend the next two minutes watching her ass sway back and forth as she climbs the steps.
Is there even any way that a woman can climb steps sensually? Is that even a fucking thing? Because if it’s not, then my stepmother has just made it one.
God, just saying that makes me feel like I’m doing something dirty. It makes me stand there like an idiot for at least 5 minutes after Jocelyn’s disappeared down the hallway.
Eventually, I climb the stairs myself and head to my bedroom. I strip my clothes off, grab my cock, and think about jerking off. To those big titties of Jocelyn's. That round, perky, juicy ass. Those slend
er fucking legs.
No. I need to stop this.
Tomorrow morning, I’m going to call some of the sluts I used to bang in high school. Work out all my issues by literally fucking the shit out of them. Making sure they can’t walk afterward by fucking them so hard. That’s what I’ll do.
A bit relieved at my plan, it doesn’t take long for the alcohol to do it’s work and put me to sleep.
***
And it seems like just two seconds later my eyes are opening up again, looking around. It’s fucking morning. Already.
I yawn, and notice that my cock is still hard.
What the fuck is going on? I know it’s probably morning wood, but I’m really hoping that my dick took a break between when I sort of passed out and this morning. I’m hoping it took a breather, and got some sleep before rising to attention for me this morning. Because last night, I hit the epiphany.
I need to just fuck this thing I have for Jocelyn out. I need to find a girl. Any fucking girl. And I need to fuck the living shit out of her.
It’ll lead to a much happier family life.
Believe it or not, this actually brings a smile to my face. I’m going to give the cock a good workout, and it’s not going to involve my dad’s wife. And then I’ll be good to go. Not distracted at every turn by Jocelyn Anders. Hell, if dad asks me to campaign, which I’m pretty sure he will, I’m going to need to fuck whatever girl I find to make sure I have a clear head during the day.
I finally have a plan. Yesterday….that was just hormones taking over. I’m the master of my fucking domain.
I put on a pair of basketball shorts and a t-shirt and head downstairs.
It’s still early enough that dad and Jocelyn will probably still be having breakfast.